


Enterprise High

by cable69



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 108,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cable69/pseuds/cable69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ST: XI high school AU, being multiple chapters and of great length, depth, characterization, and other positive qualities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: The Enterprise Incident

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the way in which you yourself have altered.  
—Nelson Mandela

x

“My God,” said Bones, “You really haven’t changed a bit, Jim.”

James Kirk laughed and threw his arms around his old friend. They were standing outside of a rundown house in a suburban neighborhood near West Portal in San Francisco. Bones hugged Kirk tightly, his hands digging into his friend’s shirt. Bones was nineteen. Kirk was seventeen.

“It—has—been—ages since I last saw you, man,” Kirk said, emphasizing each word with a clap on the back. They let go of each other, grinning hugely. “What’s up?” Kirk said.

Bones shrugged, hands in his pockets. “Not much. You excited about startin’ school tomorrow?”

“Am I! Enterprise High School, located at the intersection of Sotomayor and Laurel, student body four thousand five hundred and sixty eight, founded—uh, okay, I was bullshitting that.”

“You bullshit everythin’,” laughed Bones. “Enrollment’s more like two thousand, and it’s Morrel Street, not Laurel. I missed you. You couldn’t tell me sooner you were movin’ back?”

“It’s not like they have internet in Iowa.”

Bones’s eyes widened. “They sure as hell had it in Mississippi. Y’all—really didn’t have internet?”

“Of course we had internet, you idiot. Want to get dinner?”

“Well…” Bones scuffed his shoes on the dirty concrete driveway. “Sure. But I have a meetin’ pretty soon.”

“A meeting? What is it?” Kirk looked like a curious puppy.

“Well, it’s just a school thing, a year ago some of us got together and founded a club…”

“What, a youth chapter of AA? Tell me, Bones.”

“It’s a hovercar club,” said Bones. “I know, I’m a pre-med student, not an engineer, but this girl I know convinced me to join…”

“It all makes sense, then,” said Kirk, looking satisfied at Bones’s motivations. “Was she pretty? What was her name? What base did you get to?”

“Halfway to first,” said Bones. “Her name’s Nyota. She’s just a friend. You want to come? It won’t take more’n an hour.”

“An hour? Bones, it’s six thirty. I’m seventeen, you’ve got to feed me three meals a day or I dwindle to nothing.”

“It’ll be fun, Jim! You can meet people, and… and that girl’ll be there…”

“Ooh, yeah? Alright. Let me grab my coat. Wait—” Halfway across the yard, he turned back to Bones with a expectant expression. Bones rolled his eyes.

“She’s a C, alright? And she’s single. But I’m tellin’ you, she’s the type to rip your balls off if you look at her crosswise.”

“My type exactly,” shouted Jim as he disappeared into the house.

x

Spock had lost his glasses.

Lips tight, the young half-Vulcan got out of his Volvo and pushed the seat all the way back. Nothing. He touched his ear, something he tended to do when puzzled or frustrated. He went to the other side of the car and pushed the passenger seat back. Again, nothing. Nothing in the glove box. Nothing on the console. Nothing in the arm rest, or in the doors, or on the backseats, or in the trunk.

Flushing green with frustration, Spock took a step backwards. His heeled boots came down on something delicate. That cracked.

Spock stood there for a moment, utterly still, waves of anger rolling over him. Then, slowly, he moved his boot to reveal the two pieces of glasses. The right arm had broken off. Spock picked them up, sat against his car, and rummaged around in his bookbag for tape, wondering how on earth they had ended up so far from his car. They must have been in his jacket when he had pulled it out of the car and flown out of their pocket.

He looked up as a beat-up old Chevy pickup pulled into the parking lot. A sleek silver motorcycle whizzed past it, did a few loops, and came to a screeching halt next to the driver’s side of the truck. He recognized Leonard McCoy, but not the sandy-haired boy on the back of the motorcycle.

Shaking his head slightly at the boy’s antics, Spock finished up his hasty repair job, slipped his glasses over his nose, locked his car, and proceeded inside after Bones and the newcomer.

x

Hikaru Sulu sat up in bed. He stared at the clock.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuckfuckfuck—”

He bounded out of bed and threw on clothes pell-mell, nearly forgetting socks. He hated it when he fell asleep so late in the afternoon. The quick herbal dosage of mary jo he’d taken after lunch must have done him in—he got lazy when he was high. He dashed out of his house and then had to dash back in to retrieve his backpack, which he threw into his vintage VW van so hard he heard one of his PADDs break. Dammit. At least they were old.

Sulu revved backwards out of the driveway and almost ran into a boy on a bicycle. The bicyclist overcorrected and ran smack into a taiga tree on Sulu’s front lawn.

“Shit!” cried Sulu, shoving his van into park and leaping out. It occurred him that the only words he had said today were curses. The bicycle rider was sitting on the grass next to his bicycle. One of its wheels was still spinning.

“Are you alright?” asked Sulu, kneeling next to the rider, who turned to look at him, dazed.

Woah, thought Sulu as soon as he saw the rider’s face. His mind was on pause. Woah, he repeated, quite unable to think anything else.

The bicycle rider was the most attractive human being he had ever laid eyes on. The boy had huge blue eyes, curly brown hair and a practically sculpted visage. As Sulu helped him to his feet, the boy’s shirt rode up, and Sulu got an eyeful of ridiculously defined abs. And dear god, were those freckles scattered adorably across his nose?

“Hi,” said Sulu in a higher pitch than bats could hear. He coughed and tried again. “Hello,” he said, this time so deep he sounded like a walking cavern.

The boy smiled shyly and Sulu melted some more. “Hello,” the boy said back. His voice was light and accented. “Thank you wery much. I am sorry, I did not see your car, I was afraid you were going to run into me.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault, I’m so sorry, I really, really apologize—here, let me grab that.” Sulu propped up the boy’s bicycle, which was unharmed. “I’m, uh, Hikaru Sulu.”

“Pavel Chekov. It is nice to meet you.”

“Oh, you too, you too,” Sulu said passionately.

“Actually I haf a question,” said Chekov. “I haf moved here only recently, and I was wondering, where is the high school?”

“The high school?” said Sulu, utterly unable to believe his luck. “I’m on my way there right now.”

“Really? Could I follow you?”

Sulu picked up Chekov’s bike, walked it to his van, and secured it to the bike rack at the front. “You can ride with me. Get in, Pavel Chekov.”

The boy grinned. “Thank you, Hikaru Sulu.”

x

Montgomery Scott and Nyota Uhura were tired, sweaty, and hot. They sat down on the cool grass outside of the shop yard at the back of Enterprise High School, exhausted. Scotty couldn’t keep his eyes off of the gleaming body before him.

Uhura had to snap to get his attention. “Monty. Monty. You there, man? Quit looking at that thing like you’re going to jump it.”

“Ah I just might,” said Scotty, gazing reverently at the hovercraft he had just finished assembling. “Ah mean, look at those panels. She could go four, five, on a good surface. There’s twenty carpower in there.”

“Yes, Monty,” said Uhura, rolling her eyes. “It’s very nice, I’m sure it will beat anything Pride or Economy or Valor have to offer.”

“Well,” said Scotty, finally turning to look at her, “Pride High might enter some great stuff. Their club president, Nero—”

“There you two are,” said a voice from inside the shop. Uhura and Scotty turned to see Christopher Pike, the head of the physics department and their club sponsor, standing at the door to the yard, grinning at them. “The meeting’s about to start, come inside.”

x

Pike didn’t know two of the boys in the room, although there was something familiar about one of them, so he decided to do introductions. There were only eight people at the meeting; he figured they should all get to know each other.

“Okay, people,” said Pike, clapping his hands to get everybody’s attention. “Get in a circle.”

Kirk shot Bones an incredulous look and mouthed, “Team bonding? Seriously?” But everyone else looked happy—or at least, not unhappy—to comply. Kirk accidentally elbowed somebody’s side as he sat down. The boy he hit, a cold-looking Vulcan, shot him an almost venomous look and scooted conspicuously closer to Scotty (which was a mistake, since Scotty had been outside for the last three days finishing the hovercraft and smelled much like a landfill). Kirk shrugged. He didn’t like the look of the Vulcan anyway.

Pike settled down between Uhura and Bones. He was a strong-looking man, forty years old with graying hair and wearing a sporty blue golf shirt and khakis. He smiled at everyone. 

“I’d like to start by saying that it’s nice to have everyone back. Christine is sorry she couldn’t make it; her family is off-planet until tonight. And I see we have two new faces. Would you guys like to introduce yourselves?”

Kirk, being Kirk, started. 

“Uh, hi guys. I’m Jim Kirk, I just moved back from Iowa. Bones here is a good old friend of mine—”

Spock interrupted. “Bones?”

“Yeah,” said Kirk, turning to Spock. “It’s my nickname for him.”

“I have always questioned what purpose nicknames serve, considering they have no logical function. Names are unique to their bearers, and if differentiation is required, surnames can be applied.”

“Stuff doesn’t have to have a logical function to—”

Pike coughed. “We should probably continue with introductions,” he said patiently. 

“Oh,” said Kirk, turning away from Spock, slightly angry. “Well, have I said I just moved back from Iowa? I’m from here, actually, but we moved away a while ago, and uh… well, I came back. And actually I only showed up at this meeting because Bones promised me a bite to eat afterwards.” His eyes couldn’t help but turn to Uhura, who was watching Spock, who was still watching Kirk, something strange in his black eyes. “Not that I’m not interested in hovercrafts! They sound, uh, very interesting…” He trailed off.

Chekov swooped to his rescue. “My name is Pavel Andreievich Chekov, and I am wery interested in howercrafts.” (Sulu nearly swooned at Chekov’s pronunciation of ‘hovercrafts.’) “I haf recently moved from Tula, Russia with my parents, who are professors at the Academy. I am looking forward to attending Enterprise High with you this year.”

Pike nodded approvingly at Kirk and Chekov. “It’s nice to meet both of you.” His eyes seemed to linger on Kirk for longer than usual. “The rest of you, would you mind introducing yourselves and stating your positions on the team? Spock, if you would begin?”

The five of six original club members made their introductions, and with that, Pike suggested that they go visit the hovercar.

On their way down to the shop, Pike drew Kirk aside from the group. “Do you remember me?” he asked.

“I can’t say I do, sir,” said Kirk politely.

“Ah, well,” said Pike. “I was assigned to the USS Kelvin.”

Kirk stopped in his tracks. “Really?”

“Yes,” said Pike, taking Kirk’s arm and moving him forwards so that nobody would notice Kirk’s reaction. “I knew your father and mother very well. I was injured in the destruction of the ship and offered a teaching position at the Academy as a result. So you know, I’m here and not at the Academy because I retired two years ago.”

“From the Academy?”

“And from Starfleet. The bureaucracy got to be a bit much for me. I headed into the educational sector and found this wonderful high school. You’ll love it here, James.”

“I sure hope so. I like it already.” Kirk gave the gleaming walls an approving glance. “They’ve got good design sense. Better than back at Riverside, at least.”

“The school is beautiful. Listen, can you do me a favor? Mention me to Winona.” Pike paused. “If she’s with you. You didn’t move here by yourself, did you?”

“No, she’s with me,” said Kirk slowly. “She’s not here yet. She stayed in Iowa for a bit, to—finish selling the house, stuff like that. But yeah, I’ll say something to her. I’m sure she’d be glad to see you.”

“Yes, I’m sure she would,” said Pike. “She likes old friends.”

They arrived at the shop.

“Here she is,” said Scotty proudly after everybody had filed outside. He threw back a sheet to reveal the hovercar. “We’re not quite done with her. She can be driven, but at th’ moment she’s got a hydrogen combustor in her since we couldnae get th’ lithium crystals in from Ophiucus III in time for th’ qualifyin’ round. And we’ve got a wee bit more paintin’ to do. And a name—ah figure we’d call her after th’ school.”

“Quite logical,” said Spock, circling the vehicle. He stopped, staring at something near the tail end. “What is this, Scott?”

“Oh, er,” said Scotty nervously, stepping back a little. “Well, I thought it’d be easier all around if ah went and got her registered as a proper motor vehicle, so she’s got a license plate and everythin’. NCC 1701, ah think the number is.”

“I’m sure you never drove it on roads unregistered,” said Pike dryly.

“Of course not, sir,” said Scotty, shaking his head energetically.

“So it has both the components for hydrogen and lithium crystals in it?” asked Chekov. He moved forward to look more closely at the engine and tripped magnificently over a little cardboard box on the floor. Sulu dove forward and caught him, and Kirk moved over to help the both of them upright. He snatched the cardboard box off the ground and inspected it. He was about to ask Scotty what it was when, to his surprise, McCoy asked a question instead, proving himself to be at least a bit of an engineer and not just a pre-med student. McCoy’s query provoked another from Uhura, and soon everyone but Kirk was standing (or sitting) in and around the car, inspecting it closely. 

The hovercar was a little shorter than a standard car these days, about nine and a half-feet long by four feet wide. The front part of the vehicle was a circular disc with a black windshield and windows. At the back, two long, blue-flamed boosters thrust out from the disc. The hover cushion was two feet thick, one of the thinnest cushions Kirk had ever seen on a non-professional hovercraft. He wondered how Scotty and the club had built it.

“Ah think we’re ready for a practice run,” said Scotty to no one in particular. This caught Kirk’s attention. He couldn’t volunteer to drive the thing, could he? No, Spock was climbing into the vehicle, much to Kirk’s disappointment. That Vulcan would be an absolute bore in the driver’s seat, Kirk could tell already.

“Let’s move to the field,” said Pike, ushering everyone outside.

The large recreational area behind the high school was under construction. The ground was torn up; deep gouges showed where trees or buildings had been ripped from the earth by the construction machines lining the field. Chekov and Kirk exchanged worried glances as Pike and Uhura held up the caution tape lining the edge of the field for Spock to drive under. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Pike, but is this legal?” Kirk could not help asking. Bones looked absolutely shocked by Kirk’s sudden interest in the rules. Kirk was more worried about everyone else getting in trouble; he wouldn’t have hesitated before taking a spin in a construction area.

“Yes, I have clearance from the principal,” Pike said. “But thank you for your concern, James.”

“Most uncharacteristic,” drawled Bones. Kirk winked at him.

“Just looking out for your back, Bones,” said Kirk.

“How kind,” said Bones sarcastically.

“Let us discuss our goals,” said Spock, buzzing down the windows in the Enterprise and leaning an elbow out. Uhura, who had been falling in love with Spock all summer, made sure to stand close to the window. She ran her gaze over his appearance. He generally looked slightly awkward and geeky, but today, with his half-zipped flight jacket and broken glasses, he looked rather dangerous.

“Ah’d like to see her go two hundred, laddy,” said Scotty. “She’ll go faster once I’ve got th’ lithium crystals in and that heavy hydrogen body out. But for now, ah’d like t’ make sure she runs fast an’ sweet.”

“You are simply interested in assessing the velocity performance of the hovercar, then?”

“Well, if you want t’ make racing sound borin’, then I suppose so.”

Spock nodded sharply and retreated back inside the hovercar. He closed the windows, started the nearly silent engine, and started to move forwards, away from the group and into the field, which was long enough for a five-second burst at two hundred miles an hour, plus acceleration and deceleration time and a safety net of fifty feet. Once finished, the huge field would easily hold all of the school’s stadiums, courts, and other sports facilities, but for now, it was ideal for a short training run in the hovercar.

Kirk remembered the little cardboard box in his hand. He looked down at it and read the phrase on the side. Something large and dangerous clicked into place in his head.

“No!” he shouted, springing towards the quickly accelerating vehicle. “Wait! Spock! Wait!” He ran after the hovercar, waving his arms wildly. Spock ignored the frantic boy in his rearview mirror. He accelerated, approaching one hundred miles per hour.

Bones took off after Kirk, yelling curses at him, quickly followed by Uhura, then Pike, then the rest of the club. Spock had reached the edge of the field and turned left. Kirk could see a particularly large hole in the ground halfway back across the field. The elevation compensators on the vehicle were not up to strength, Kirk knew; they had been manufactured for a lithium crystal-driven hovercar. If Spock hit that hole, the car would explode.

So Kirk did something incredibly stupid, and incredibly Kirk. He was about a fourth of the way across the field by this point. He sped up, his legs pumping faster, and made sure his course would obviously intersect with that of the approaching hovercar.

Confused, Spock slowed down well in advance of both Kirk and the hole. A half a minute later, Kirk arrived panting at the side of the vehicle. Spock was already halfway out of it, speaking in what for him must have been an angry tone.

“Mr. Kirk, what were you thinking of by attempting to intersect this hovercraft in such a reckless manner? Observers of potentially dangerous sports and games remain, for perfectly logical safety reasons, on the far edge of the field of play, and never attempt to intervene in a game in progress!”

Kirk was panting too hard to reply. Bones staggered up next to Kirk and fell against the hovercraft. He tried to say something to Kirk, wheezed pathetically, and simply shook his fist limply at his friend.

“What is the meaning of this?” Pike demanded breathlessly upon arrival. “James, Spock might not have seen you, you could have been hit—”

“The car,” puffed Kirk, “could have exploded.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “What proof can you provide?” he said coolly, taking the opportunity to move closer to Kirk.

“This,” said Kirk, holding out the little cardboard box.

There was a moment of silence as everyone stared at it. Then Scotty gasped.

“Oh, Mary, Mother of God. Th’ fasteners.”

“The what?” said Bones irritably.

“The fasteners for the hydrogen fuel cells,” said Pike, his face going pale. “You forgot to put them on, Scotty.”

“What does that mean?” demanded Bones.

“It means the fuel cells weren’t hooked securely to the body of the car,” said Sulu quietly. “They were close to the process engine, which runs at temperatures of three hundred Celsius and up. If the cells had come loose and run into the engine, they would have caused a massive explosion. And since the car is heavier because of the hydrogen system, the elevation compensators wouldn’t have been able to entirely still the car as it traveled over that big hole. So they probably would have come loose then.”

There was a pause as everyone processed the potential consequences.

“Kirk,” said Spock shortly, approaching him. “I would like to thank you for noting the flaws in my vehicle and halting my piloting of it. I must excuse myself.” He nodded to Kirk and started back across the field, pushing his hands into his pockets to hide their trembling. Uhura, wide-eyed, hurried after him.

“Well,” said Scotty, shaken. “That could have ended quite badly. Ah’ll just… take that,” he murmured, plucking the box from Kirk’s palm. He walked over to the Enterprise and tried to open the engine, but the heat had warped the surface of the hatch panel slightly. Bones and Chekov went to help him.

“Very well done, James,” said Pike, resting his hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “I cannot thank you enough. I would like to promote you to vice president of the club.”

Sulu’s draw dropped. Kirk blinked.

“Excuse me, Mr. Pike?”

“I’ll let Spock know in the morning. You should go home; take Leo with you. You too, Hikaru, and take your friend. I’ll see you tomorrow, James. Once more, thank you.”

“Anytime,” said Kirk, bemused. “Anytime.”

x

“That,” said Bones, “was fuckin’ impressive.”

“Wasn’t it?” said Kirk, who had practically recovered. They were sprawled in the living room of Kirk’s house, talking over a steaming pizza. “I’m really quite incredible, you know.”

“Okay then, no more complements for you,” said Bones wearily. “This hero of the hour thing really boosts your ego, huh?”

“’Course it does. I saved a man’s life! Speaking of, why do you think he didn’t stay to chat more, to, you know, give me more of an opportunity to bask in the warm, golden glow of glory and all…”

“Spock doesn’t chat,” said Bones. “Spock probably doesn’t even know what chat means. I’m bettin’ he was pretty freaked out by what happened. Plus, I don’t think he likes you.”

“What gives you that idea?” said Kirk, grinning. He didn’t like Spock much either. He was a little too nerdy for Kirk’s taste, and he had never seen anything sexy about Vulcans.

Bones laughed. “Dammit, Jim, he’s half-Vulcan; that’s about as emotionally repressed as you get. You’re—well, you’re you. You couldn’t define ‘inhibitions’ if your life depended on it.”

“That’s not true! As long as I had a PADD with me, I could let you know what it meant in a nanosecond.”

Bones shook his head. “You’re incorrigible. Listen, it’s late. I should go.”

Kirk’s face changed; he looked, suddenly, incredibly sad. “Oh, please don’t, Bones. I’ve missed you.” He looked into Bones’s eyes. “I’ve missed you so much. Can’t you—stay the night, or something?”

Bones sighed. “Well, if you insist, Jim. I missed you too. As long as you get a bed made up for me, I’ll hang around.”

x

Bones woke up the next day with Kirk’s arm around his naked torso and knew immediately that this was going to be a very interesting year.


	2. Chapter Two: This Side of Paradise

Kirk showered, brushed his teeth and hair, and dressed with a smile on his face. He’d moved back to San Francisco only two days previously, and for more than three weeks before that, he had been busy helping his mother pack up their house in Iowa. So he hadn’t had any fun makeout sessions in about a month, which was definitely some kind of record for him. At the age of seventeen, he was infamous for having slept with the majority of his class. He wasn’t regarded as a slut, exactly, but he was the go-to guy for quickies. Back in Riverside, though, the choices had been limited. His high school only had four hundred people, so he got bored easily, and had nearly gotten expelled a few months ago for moving from students to teachers. It was one of the reasons his mother had decided to accept the promotion Starfleet had finally offered her and move back to San Francisco.

There were other things that had been preventing his fun makeout sessions. Kirk touched the scars on his shoulders and wrists. He had the same scars on his knees. They were fading now. Iowa had good doctors. Kirk closed his eyes and leaned over the sink. Fun makeout sessions, he repeated to himself. Fun. Just fun.

He was pretty sure Bones wasn’t going to be speaking to him when they got to school. Bones had always been sensitive about little things like kissing. But really, it wasn’t like Bones had objected. Kirk had secretly rewired the air conditioning so that it wouldn’t turn off and convinced Bones that he was freezing alone in his bed. One thing led to another, and was it Kirk’s fault that Bones had made those blissful noises as Kirk had sucked on his neck? Kirk looked away from the scars. Oh, it was good to be back in the game.

x

“I—am going—to kill—Jim.”

It was Bones’s morning mantra. Usually his morning mantra was something like, “I will do well on my physics test,” or, “I will work up the courage to talk to Yolande Saunders today,” but as soon as he saw his neck in the mirror, he changed it from “I might have to kill Jim” to the more accurate current version.

x

Uhura had spent the night at Scotty’s house. She had known him for all of her life; their parents had been good friends before they were born. She knew Scotty’s one true passion was engineering, so she felt safer around him than she felt around most people. Her other friends were all sex-obsessed, and she didn’t feel like getting caught in the hormonal crossfire tonight, not after what happened with Spock.

“I made an absolute fool of myself, Monty,” she told him, flopping down on his bed the next morning after taking a shower. “I chased after him when everyone could tell he was all shaken up and tried to talk to him. I said, ‘What do you need?’ and hugged him and it was just horrible, he didn’t even try to hug me back. All he said was that he needed everyone to continue performing admirably. And the look he gave me, it was like I was a bug. I’ve never felt smaller in my life.”

“Ah can give him a piece of my mind for you, if you’d like,” said Scotty, frowning down at her. “Or a piece of my fist.”

“Oh, no, don’t do that,” said Uhura. “He wasn’t rude.” Scotty relaxed. “He was just—Spock. Which, I know, I know, I should have expected.”

“Well, ah suppose you should’ve,” said Scotty. “Now turn around, ah’ve got to put me clothes on.”

“I might as well, too,” said Uhura. Facing away from each other, Uhura dropped her towel and Scotty pulled off his pajamas. “Do you think Mr. Pike managed to put our schedules together?”

“Oh, ‘tis likely. He’s got influence, he does.”

Uhura zipped up her skirt, then studied the two tops she had brought with her.

“Red or gold, Monty, what do you think?”

“Ah’m a mechanic, not a designer.”

“Just answer.”

“Alrighty then, ah like red better.”

Uhura pulled the red shirt on.

x

Sulu took thirty whole minutes to shower the next morning. He hadn’t been able to talk to Chekov much after the meeting, mainly because the boy turned out to be almost painfully shy when not talking about physics. As Chekov cycled home, Sulu sat in his van in the school parking lot and breathed heavily, trying to calm himself.

Sulu’s house was empty by the time Sulu was dressed for school. His parents were never home. They were particle physicists at Stanford, absorbed in their work, dismissive of their three children. Hikaru was the youngest. His two sisters were out of college. Miko, the oldest, was a photographer in Seattle. Inoue had moved to Theta V, where she was a school principal. Only Hikaru had inherited his parents’ interest in science, but not in quite the way they preferred. He was planning on joining Starfleet. His parents were pacifists and disapproved of any military organization, even a peacekeeping force. But all Sulu wanted to do was fly a starship.

x

Spock selected his clothing carefully. He knew most of his teachers already, but he did not want to appear unkempt on the first day back. Of course, he almost never appeared unkempt, except for directly after he had awoken. It frustrated him that he was unable to keep still when he slept. While he fell asleep in the same position every night—on his back, his hands clasped over his breastbone—he would invariably wake up on his side or stomach or curled up, the sheets crumpled around him. He was glad nobody was there to watch him sleep.

He chose a crimson collared shirt and charcoal gray slacks. He packed his bookbag, put on his fixed glasses, draped his pinstripe jacket over his arm, and left for school, kissing his mother Amanda goodbye and patting I-Chaya, his sehlat, on the head as he walked out the door.

x

Chekov scrubbed his teeth with one hand and pulled on his shoes with the other, accidentally drooling toothpaste all over the new carpet. Muttering curses in Russian, he wiped up the foam after rinsing his mouth and swung his backpack over his shoulders. His mother and father hugged him goodbye and good luck in his new school. He tossed himself onto his bicycle and wheeled off towards Enterprise High. He wasn’t thinking about much other than what his new classes were going to be like and if he’d have to talk to people. He figured he would hang out with the boy he met yesterday, Hikaru, who was very nice, or maybe Jim, who was very attractive. He was a little afraid of Leonard, Spock, and Nyota; they seemed brisk and unfriendly. Jim, though. Chekov smiled. Jim he could get closer to.

Chekov acquired his schedule from the front desk when he arrived at the school. First period: Advanced Placement English IV with Mr. K. Maru.

x

Enterprise High School was thirty years old. Wrought of stone, the outer walls curved pleasantly and the solar panels on the tilted roof shone brilliantly in the morning sun. The large entranceway arched above a single door, twenty feet wide and consisting of a single pane of blue glass edged by highly polished redwood. The doors opened each morning at seven. Students trickled in until eight o’clock, when classes began.

The property was lined by redwood trees, as tall as the school but still young and growing. Ivy and roses grew up the stone, imported from the south, twining around columns and creeping over windows. The cafeteria, a hemisphere with the diameter as a window, which again consisted of a single large pane of cerulean glass, viewed the recreational field at the back of the school, which was currently and unattractively under construction.

Kirk entered through the back doors at around seven thirty. He simply couldn’t believe the number of beautiful girls and boys on this campus. The place was like paradise. His eyes were everywhere trying to keep up. The ones he stared at tended to return his lustful glances, appreciating what they saw. He collected eighteen phone numbers on his way to the office without initiating a single conversation. His ego was in danger of exploding.

He had gotten his schedule and a map and left the office when he saw Bones entering through the front door. He tried to hide but Bones spotted him and was on him in a split second, grasping his shoulder so tightly he felt sure the bone was about to splinter.

“You bastard,” spat Bones, pushing him against a wall and leaning in close to Kirk’s face. Kirk couldn’t help but be aroused by Bones’s proximity and passionate anger. “Look at this bruise. It’s huge. It’s the first day of school, Jim, what the hell were you thinkin’?”

“Not much,” admitted Kirk. “I was focusing pretty heavily on the noises you were making.”

“Just because I liked it doesn’t mean I want it now! It’s the first day of school,” Bones repeated helplessly. “You couldn’t have thought of that?”

“Definitely not my responsibility,” said Kirk. “Let me reiterate, you were not objecting at the time. It’s not my fault my mouth is magical.”

“Your mouth is not magical,” hissed Bones, earning himself a double-take from the girl passing behind him. “It projects your voice, and is thus utterly dead to me.”

“You’re sexy when your accent gets lost in your frustration,” Kirk leaned forward to whisper in Bones’s ear. “I like it.”

Bones turned slightly red, but let go of Kirk disgustedly. “I sure as hell don’t like you. You’ll get paid back for this, I swear.”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Kirk. “Now, would you mind escorting me to class?” He stuck out his arm.

“Escort yourself,” snapped Bones. “I’ve got English IV first.”

“With Mr. Maru?”

“Yeah.”

“What a coincidence.” Kirk held out his schedule. “Me too.”

“What? How’d you get into English IV? You’re a damn junior.”

“No, I’m a senior. The counselor at my old school told me I couldn’t graduate in four years, not with ‘an attitude like mine,’ so I decided to do it in three. Got my freshman and sophomore classes over with the first year. Last year was a piece of cake; I figure this year won’t be much different.”

Bones didn’t know what to say. He simply turned on his heel and walked away. Chuckling, Kirk followed him.

x

Spock eyed Bones and Kirk as they entered the classroom ten minutes before the bell. They didn’t seem to be speaking; at least, Bones didn’t seem to be speaking to Kirk, who was talking merrily at his friend. He watched the new boy, but briefly; Uhura had just entered, and she was proving to be rather distracting in her low-cut red blouse. He was glad that his mind had shifted away from Kirk. Of course, as soon as he thought that, his mind betrayed him again by returning to the initial subject. He looked away from both of them, trying to control himself.

Uhura, still uncomfortable around Spock, had elected to sit with her friends. Scotty was surrounded by four girls, but he was ignoring them for the recently-released blueprints of the newest Starfleet vessel. Even when Galia dropped a pencil near Scotty’s desk and leaned over to pick it up, he didn’t tear his eyes away, although most of the rest of the class did.

Bones headed for Uhura’s group so he could sit near Christine Chapel, a girl he’d met in his medical class last year and convinced to join the hovercar club. She smiled at him as he sat down next to her, Kirk following him like a lost (but talkative) puppy. Kirk made eyes at all four girls—Uhura, Gaila, Chapel, and Janice Rand. Uhura’s face closed up: she wasn’t in to pushy types. Gaila, who was in to people that breathed, made eyes back. Chapel ignored him for Bones, and Janice looked askance at Galia.

Predictably, Kirk sat down next to Gaila. Nearly the whole class rolled their eyes, already having gotten the hang of Kirk.

“So, Leo,” said Chapel loudly. The class looked from Kirk and Gaila to Chapel and Bones. “What’s wrong with your neck?”

Bones turned bright red. “Ran into a tree,” he muttered, trying to lean his chin on his hand so that his neck would be invisible to observers. 

“I’m sure you did,” smirked Chapel. “And what was the tree named?”

Kirk wasn’t sure if he wanted to be implicated in this. He saw Bones’s hand twitch, as if dreaming of grasping Kirk’s throat (Probably non-sexily, Kirk thought sadly). But he was unable to resist needling Bones. He put on a yes-what-was-the-tree-named expression and stared expectantly at his friend.

“That would be my business, Chris,” said Bones as smoothly as possible. He was actually going to kill Kirk after school. He was already making plans. It can look like an accident if Jim falls down a set of stairs, or happens to stab himself in the stomach with a bread knife at home…

“I never thought Leo was such a slut,” Gaila said quietly in Kirk’s ear, making him start. “But I can smell you are.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I can still smell him on you. That’s pretty hot.”

“Thank you,” said Kirk smoothly. “James Tiberius Kirk. Pleased to meet you. Call me Jim.”

“Gaila. What your species has against single names, I’ll never know. Welcome to Enterprise High. Where are you from?”

“Here, originally. I’ve been in Iowa for the past few years; my mom worked at the Starfleet shipyard there. What about you?”

“I am from Orion, as you can possibly tell. Have you met an Orion before?”

“Have I,” said Kirk, looking reminiscent.

“I see,” said Gaila, laughing. Kirk could tell that she was a cheerful, dangerously clever sort of girl. 

“So what can you tell me about Mr. Maru?” he said.

“He’s an asshole,” said Gaila firmly; she had complained about Mr. Maru before. “He’s a great teacher, but a terrible human. Every year, at the beginning of the first semester, he gives us this test that is impossible to pass. We have to answer questions about the book we’ve just finished reading. But they’re questions like, ‘What is the fourteenth punctuation mark on page thirty seven?’ and ‘Exactly how many times does the author use the word “bell” in the novel?’ Nobody gets above a forty, except for Spock, but he’s never broken forty five.”

“Why does Maru do that?”

“He says we’re over-privileged spoiled brats and back in his day they didn’t give grades above a 5.0. Archaic, huh? It means that nobody in the school has a perfect 6.0.”

Kirk froze. “Really?”

“Really. Spock’s first with a 5.9989. Scotty has a 5.9892. I have a 5.9887. I’m sure it drives Spock crazy, not having an even six. I don’t mind; Scotty and I have been battling for second for awhile now, and it makes it fun when there’s more of a challenge.”

“That’s true,” said Kirk, his face breaking into a grin. “You’re competitive, are you?”

“Incredibly,” said Gaila. “But not nearly as competitive as Spock. The one time I got a higher grade than him on a history test he wouldn’t speak to me for a week.”

“That’s interesting,” said Kirk, filing that bit of information away. Maybe he could use it to torture Spock with; he had taken a distinct dislike to the half-Vulcan. “That’s very interesting.”

The bell rang.

Mr. Maru was a slim Japanese man with pure white hair. He opened the class with a reading from Antigone. In the middle of the paragraph, the door burst open and an out of breath, beet red Chekov stumbled inside and stopped stock still feet from the door, seeing that all eyes were on him.

“Can I help you?” said Mr. Maru dangerously. Sulu’s hands clenched themselves into white-knuckled fists. 

“Yes, sir, I was just trying to find my way around the school, and I am new, and think I am in your class.” Chekov proffered his schedule hesitantly. Mr. Maru snatched it away from him and inspected the transparency.

“You’re in the right place, Mr. Chekov. Take a seat, and try not to be late again. Page one hundred and sixty four.”

Chekov scurried over to a seat at the back of the room, still scarlet, and opened the book on his desk. Mr. Maru harrumphed, pushed his glasses up from the tip of his nose, and continued reading.

Sulu unclenched his fists. Spock, whose eyes had been on Sulu’s hands, looked away.

x

Physics with Mr. Pike was next. The club members thanked him for his influence on their schedule; Pike’s talk with the counselors had resulted in all of the club members having six of seven classes together. The exception was fifth period, during which they went off to their various electives. Third period they had history with Ms. Tyvak. Fourth period was lunch and AP study hall, which meant basically that they got to hang around in Pike’s room for an hour and a half. Predictably, Spock worked throughout the whole period, despite having nearly no homework. Sixth period was economics and seventh period was calculus. All of their classes were Advanced Placement.

Fifth period was unique. Kirk had signed up for a military history class that he thoroughly enjoyed. Bones and Chapel were continuing with their medical studies class. Scotty was taking shop. Chekov had elected to take another math, and Sulu was on the school’s flight simulator. Spock had a computer class. Uhura was beginning Vulcan.

After school, Kirk and Gaila went to a park nearby and made out for a couple of hours. Bones went home and stared at his neck in the mirror, half turned on by his memories of last night and half still pissed. Uhura, Chapel, Rand, Scotty, and Sulu, who convinced Chekov to come, met at a coffee shop, the Shore Leave, after their respective dinners and talked for a couple of hours.

Spock studied the entire day. Late at night, he closed his book and put his head in his hands, allowing himself a single moment of weakness. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. He’d been thinking about him all day, ever since the dream he’d had the night before, the dream of being pinned against a wall and kissed within an inch of his life. Spock shook his head, forcing the image away. There. It was gone. He was done. There would be no more of his useless human weakness. No more fantasies, no more dreams.

His subconscious didn’t listen, and he woke up the next morning covered in sweat, spread out luxuriously on his back as if he were being crushed under some foreign body. Spock threw himself into the shower, trying to wash his thoughts of James Kirk away.

x

Uhura came home from the Shore Leave and got up the courage to email Spock. Her first day of Vulcan hadn’t been difficult, but she knew that this was her chance to catch Spock’s eye. 

Dear Spock, she typed, I was wondering if it would be possible for you to tutor me in your native language…

x


	3. Chapter Three: Wink of an Eye

Kirk and Gaila were made for each other. When the front door to Kirk’s house was unlocked at five o’clock in the morning, Galia sprang out of bed, grabbed her clothes, and flew out the window before Kirk had opened his eyes. “It’s your mom,” Gaila hissed at him through the window, glancing over the bushes she was hiding behind and recognizing the features of the woman opening the front door. “I thought you said she was showing up tomorrow.”

“Well, that was yesterday, so. But yeah. Didn’t expect her to get in at five AM,” Kirk said, trying not to yawn.

“Good luck. See you later. Mwah.” Gaila blew a kiss at Kirk and disappeared.

Kirk rolled out of bed, stretching and trying not to run into walls. He managed to pull pajama pants and an undershirt on and stagger into the hallway. He’d only been asleep for two hours and was incredibly sore (Galia was a monster in bed); why did his mother have to show up so damn early?

He was about to walk into the living room, where the lights were on, when he remembered to detour into the bathroom to check for incriminating evidence. Oh shit, there was a used condom stuck to the sleeve of his shirt. He peeled it off and wrapped it in about eighteen layers of toilet paper before hiding it deep in the trashcan. He ran his hand through his hair, wiped the lip gloss off of his collarbone and ear, and went to greet his mother.

“Hey there, sleepy-head,” said Winona happily. “It’s good to see you!”

“You too, mom,” said Kirk, hugging her tightly and hoping he didn’t smell too much like sex. “Thought your shuttle didn’t get in till a reasonable time.”

“Who needs reasonable? Continental bumped me up to first class and offered me an earlier departure, so I took it. Help me with the bags, will you? And why haven’t you unpacked any boxes yet?”

“I’ve unpacked some boxes,” said Kirk petulantly.

“Yes, your boxes.”

“Well, I’ve had homework.”

“You had two days before you started school!”

“The first day I unpacked my stuff, and then the day before school I met up with Bones,” said Kirk, not mentioning that he’d explored San Francisco that morning.

“Oh, he’s still around, is he? How’s he doing?”

“Pretty good,” said Kirk uncomfortably. “Still wants to be a doctor.”

“Is he still dating that Jocelyn girl? It must be three years, now.”

“Uh, they broke up right before summer.”

“What a shame. We knew her when we lived her; she was very nice.”

Kirk rolled his eyes. Yeah. Very nice years ago.

“Are you in any of his classes?”

“Six out of seven. One of the teachers got us into the same classes. Actually, the teacher is Christopher Pike, mom.”

Winona paused over a piece of luggage. “Really. Christopher is teaching at your school?”

“Yeah, physics. And he’s sponsor of the hovercar club. Which I joined. Remind me to tell you more about that.”

“Okay. How is he?”

“Good, I guess. You know I’d never met him, mom, I just heard about him from you, and I didn’t realize it was him until he said he knew you.”

“Yes, we lost contact after—after your father died. Tell him I said hello.”

“’Kay. You get the sale of the house finalized?”

“Yes. And I got the lawyer’s bill settled. Frank shouldn’t be bothering us any more.”

Winona watched Kirk for his reaction, but he didn’t say anything. He hefted a bag. “God, what did you put in this suitcase, bricks?”

“Just bring it inside.” She smiled at him. “I missed you, Jim.”

“I missed you too, mom.”

x

Spock read the email three times before replying in the affirmative. He would be glad to tutor Uhura in Vulcan. He couldn’t help but feel complemented that she would ask him for help. He was well acquainted with everyone in the hovercar club, of course, and had a number of other contacts in the school, but there was nobody at school he would call a friend. He wondered if he could strike up such a friendship with Uhura, who seemed to be cut out of his same cloth. She was intelligent, controlled, and polite. She was also attractive, but he had not been doing so well with people he found attractive lately, so he tried not think about that.

Uhura had her PADD on audio alert for new emails and had already been pinged eight times by spam. So when the bell noise sounded again, she picked it up with less excitement than usual. But a smile soon crossed her face—Spock would evidently be interested in tutoring her. Provided she arrived early to their first period class, he would be willing to discuss arrangements with her. 

Uhura was there when the doors to the school opened. Spock arrived forty minutes later, which gave Uhura plenty of time to stare at herself in a hand mirror, correcting single hairs. He nodded slightly in her direction and sat in the desk beside her. Uhura felt her heart beat faster. He was so attractive, tall and lean and clearly intelligent. She had a thing for scholar-types. All the people she’d dated in high school had been in the top fifty in the class. Most of the people she knew didn’t find Spock at all attractive, which shocked her. Sure, he was reserved and cool and different, but he was also first in the class.

“Hey,” she said casually. 

“Good morning, Nyota.” said Spock. He looked serene. “Is your study of Vulcan progressing slowly?”

Was this Spock making conversation? Surely not. “It’s not progressing slowly, as such,” Uhura admitted. This was all part of her plan. “I’m doing much better than the teacher expected me to.”

“Unsurprising. You have demonstrated an incredible talent for languages. How many are you capable of speaking?”

“Seventeen,” said Uhura. “Ten Earth languages and seven alien languages. I’m also going to be learning Romulan during the second semester, and I know the differences between the languages are slight. I suppose I don’t really need help, but I would enjoy outdoing my own expectations.”

“I was wondering—is one the languages you speak Klingon?”

“Yes, I’ve been proficient since I was twelve.”

“That’s very impressive. Klingon is one of the more difficult alien languages to learn. Is there a preferable time for me to assist you?”

“After eight, actually, is best for me,” said Uhura, cheering inwardly. “I have tennis until six and then dinner, and then I should do some homework before you come over. Uh, you can come to my house, right? Or should we meet somewhere? Or should I come to your house?”

“I can easily locate your residence.” Spock gave her his version of a smile. “I was not aware you were involved in extracurricular activities other than hovercar club and karate.”

“Well, my dad encourages me to play. He’s always claimed he was a descendent of Roger Federer.”

“How charmingly illogical.”

“Isn’t it? Have you met my dad? He’s like that.”

They talked about their families until the bell rang.

x

Mr. Maru seldom asked questions of his class, preferring discussion amongst his students to arise from his comments rather than his queries. Spock was, as a rule, uninterested in the subject; the emotions that ran high in literature were difficult for him to understand and analyze. 

In all other classes, however, Spock excelled, answering half of the questions the teacher posed and generously allowing the other half to be answered by the rest of the students. Physics was second period. It was one of Spock’s favorite classes. But the occasion was marred slightly when Kirk took a seat to the right of Spock, pausing to grin at him before dumping his backpack all over the table.

Spock touched his ear. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with sitting next to Kirk. Not after those highly unusual dreams.

“Good to see you again, Spock,” said Kirk lightly. “Feeling better after your near miss?”

“My mental state is unchanged, James,” said Spock coldly. “While I appreciate your actions on my behalf, I find them to be tinged with a hint of ego.”

“Ego? Me?” said Kirk innocently. “Heaven forbid. Oh look, it’s the bell.”

Spock opened his notebook, hand wrapped firmly around his left ear.

Pike generally started the class with warm-up problems. He drew a diagram on the board and turned to the class.

“Say two point charges of a and b, both at +20nC, are placed ten meters apart from one another. Tell me the electrical fields at points one, two and three,” he said, gesturing to the diagram.

Spock paused to calculate the problems in his head. To his shock, he saw Pike’s head nod. Who was he signaling to answer?

“Zero, ten point two N/C, and seven point eight N/C,” said Kirk from beside him, leaning back calmly in his chair.

Spock blinked.

“Good,” said Pike blandly. A silence had fallen over the class. Spock could sense everyone staring at him.

Pike drew another diagram on the board. Spock began calculating the possible questions and answers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kirk’s fingers move as if they were holding a pen and writing equations.

“How many degrees below the x axis is the force on a proton located at point P?” asked Pike.

Spock opened his mouth. “Forty nine point three,” said Kirk smoothly before Spock could speak.

“And if an electron,” said Pike, “at q equals one point six times ten to the negative nineteenth C and m equals nine point eleven at ten to the negative thirty first kilograms, accelerates from rest through a potential difference of three hundred and sixty point eight volts, what is the electron’s final speed in miles per second?”

There was a pause. Nobody else in the class was working the problem, not even Scotty or Chekov. They were watching Kirk and Spock.

“Eleven million, two hundred and fifty six thousand, six hundred and eighty miles per second, sir,” said Kirk.

Spock’s nostrils flared once. He attempted to still himself. He had not even been halfway finished with the problem when Kirk answered.

“One last question,” said Pike, still seemingly detached. “Say an electron enters a region where the field strength is three times ten to the sixth N/C. First, what is the electron’s acceleration? Second, how far does the electron travel to acquire ten percent the speed of light?”

Spock calculated frantically in his mind. He saw Kirk’s hand stop moving. He’d figured it out. But he didn’t answer.

“Five million three hundred and sixty seven thousand nine hundred and two light years per second and four point eight five million parsecs,” said Spock quickly, almost hurriedly.

“Very well done, boys,” said Pike, a small smile on his face. “Now, having reviewed electrical fields and their influences, let’s talk a bit more about electromagnetism.”

Spock stared straight ahead, ignoring the looks his classmates were shooting him. Kirk sprawled across his desk, utterly relaxed. Everybody could tell that he’d known the answer to the last problem. He’d given it to Spock.

x

It was the same throughout the entire day. In history, Kirk would swoop in with a date or a name just before Spock got it off the tip of his tongue. In economics, Kirk’s graphs were more detailed than Spock’s. In calculus, Kirk once more was faster with his math. 

Spock was no longer uncomfortable around Kirk. Now, he was angry. His blood was simmering under his thin skin. All he wanted to do was pin Kirk against a wall and strangle him. The dream had disappeared (almost) entirely, to be replaced by a rage on slow boil.

To add insult to injury, as they were packing up at the end of calculus, their last class, Kirk turned to Spock.

“It was nice jousting with you today, Spock. I’m sorry I’ve danced in so unexpectedly. My old school was pretty boring. There wasn’t much competition.”

“Fascinating,” said Spock tightly, pulling the ties on his bookbag with violent force.

“Still, I did manage to keep my GPA pretty high. Ended up with a solid 6.0, actually. I heard that because of Mr. Maru, nobody’s been able to get past a 5.9999. What a shame. Looks like I’m first in the class, for now.”

And with a charming smile, Kirk swept out of the classroom.

When Spock got home, he punched a hole in his wall.

x

Kirk and Bones sat in the Shore Leave, sipping cappuccinos. 

“Did you really have to goad him like that, Jim?” said Bones, sounding frustrated. “I really think he might try to kill you. His expression was pure venom.”

“He’s fun to mess with,” said Kirk, looking bored. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothin’ personal my ass. You’re mad him for not thankin’ you for savin’ his life.”

“That’s not true! I just… feel he should be taken down a notch. He’s much too serious. No sense of humor.”

“I may not be as smart as you, Jim, but I know that you can’t make an enemy like Spock. That man doesn’t forgive, doesn’t forget. He’ll haunt you. He’ll up the stakes.”

“It’s just a game, Bones! You should know better than to take me seriously.”

“You know, Jim, I really should,” growled Bones, standing suddenly. “I’ve had enough of you already. You were always predatory, even when we were just kids. You were always after me, even then, even when I was eleven and you were nine and two years was a big difference. And now you are here, after eight years, after I was sure you weren’t comin’ back, and you haven’t grown up a damn bit after all. You’re just the same as you always were, spoilt and self-centered and cruel. People aren’t playthings. You should know better than that, at your age.”

Kirk was taken aback. He hadn’t thought Bones capable of that kind of reprimand. Evidently he didn’t know Bones as well as he thought. But maybe Bones didn’t know him as well as he thought.

“At least I’m better than you. At least I didn’t run around with the same bitch for three years, hopelessly in love with a lie. You don’t even know how damaged you are, Bones. We’d kept up contact so well. We’d talk and talk and talk and then she slips into your life. Do you know how much that hurt, when you disappeared? I needed you, Bones, and you weren’t there for me. You just left. You don’t even know… Never mind. I don’t even want to tell you.”

“And I don’t want to hear any more bullshit from you, Jim. Go, live your pathetic damn life. See if I care what you do.”

Bones threw his chair back and stormed out. 

Kirk stayed, immobile in his seat, clutching the armrests. God, he was actually trying not to cry. He bit his lip, trembling. Bones. Dammit, Bones. I nearly told you. I nearly told you.

x

Christine Chapel looked up. Uhura was online. She slid her keyboard over to her study space and typed, hey nyota. when’s spock coming over?

nuhura: fifteen minutes. i’m freaking out.

cchapel: i bet you are. i’d sure be. you’ll be fine though, i promise. 

cchapel: room clean?

nuhura: as a whistle. what does that expression even mean

cchapel: no clue. you on problem 9 yet?

nuhura: yes and i’m stuck, you too? i hate calculus.

cchapel: get spock to help you with it. ;)

nuhura: shuttup

nuhura: so, i’m not stepping in on your territory anymore, right?

nuhura: you know. with him.

cchapel: honey, i’m over spock. i was over him as soon as jocelyn broke up with leo. i’d never realized how attractive that man wa

cchapel: *was

nuhura: leo? come on. he’s too grumpy.

cchapel: he’s incredible! you’re not in our med class. he’s brilliant. he’s nearly as smart as i am.

nuhura: this is my surprised face.

cchapel: you bitch. seriously

cchapel: i dunno. theres just something about him, that i can’t really put my finger on

nuhura: bet you’d like to put your finger on it.

cchapel: you are such a perv. if you make a that’s what she said around spock i’ll, i don’t even know, bear your children.

nuhura: oh i could never. you know spock wouldn’t get a double entendre if it danced naked in front of him wearing a tea cosy. 

cchapel: you nerd.

cchapel: yeah he probably wouldn’t. tragic…

nuhura: you think he likes you back? leo?

cchapel: yeah, no.

cchapel: OKAY WHOSE HICKEY WAS THAT

cchapel: ive been meaning to ask you. i mean what the fuck

nuhura: right?? its so uncharacteristic of him

nuhura: (i spell uncharacteristic right but don’t punctuate it’s properly…)

cchapel: (haha)

cchapel: i sorta think it might be the new kid.

nuhura: god he is horny enough. he’s already slept with gaila.

cchapel: that doesn’t say much. we’ve already slept with gaila. it’s like a badge of… being alive.

nuhura: well that’s true. still. less than 24 hours. pretty impressive.

cchapel: how that girl stays third in the class and sleeps with that many people i will never know

nuhura: for real. fourth now, i guess.

nuhura: oh my god he’s here

nuhura: i’m going to go panic now

cchapel: aah! you’ll do fine. breathe. don’t forget to be sexy. but not too sexy. just the right amount of sexy.

cchapel: and smart! be smart!

nuhura: SHUT UP. BYE

x

Kirk didn’t feel like going home, but he couldn’t just sit there, fuming about Bones. He went to the bar to get another drink. If he could find his fake ID, everything would be much better, but the chip for it was somewhere in one of the unpacked boxes and he wasn’t quite motivated enough to search for it. So, more coffee.

Chekov was at the bar too, ordering a frappe and an iced tea. Kirk sidled up to him as they were waiting for their drinks.

“Hey, Pavel,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“Wery well, Jim. I am here with a few people, Hikaru and Scotty and Janice and Gaila. Would you like to join us?”

“That’d be wonderful, thanks. I could use some friendly company.”

Sulu couldn’t help but bristle a little when Kirk followed Chekov back. He’d just heard that Kirk had already slept with Gaila, and while that was Gaila’s way of saying hello, the speed with which the greetings had been exchanged was quite suspicious, especially considering the way Chekov was watching Kirk.

Kirk smiled familiarly at Gaila, who looked friendly rather than rapacious now. She patted the seat beside her and he settled down next to her. They started talking about calculus immediately. Chekov listened intently. Rand chimed in, being a bit of a math whiz herself. Sulu saw how Kirk looked at her, almost as if she were another piece of meat. When Chekov made a comment, Kirk turned to him and winked. Winked.

Scotty put a hand on Sulu’s leg. “Calm down, laddie,” he said quietly. “You dunnae have claim on Pavel yet.”

“I know,” said Sulu. “I just…” He shook his head helplessly.

But Kirk backed off for the rest of the evening. He was perfectly decent to Rand and Chekov. When they left, Sulu thought that Kirk might not be as bad as he thought.

Of course, he didn’t see Chekov watching Kirk drive away on his motorcycle. He couldn’t know how appreciative Chekov was of Kirk’s physique.

Chekov let himself know later that night, so enthusiastically that it took a sheet-washing to dispose of the evidence.

x

Spock and Uhura were making progress. Uhura showed a remarkable understanding of Vulcan even though she had only begun learning it last week. Spock helped her for an hour on some of the more difficult grammar points. As the clock approached nine, they started speaking more, discussing vocabulary words and forming sentences to each other.

The light in the room grew dimmer, as atmospheric lights were programmed to do. The shadows on Uhura’s face lengthened, emphasizing her sharp cheekbones and deep eyes. As she looked down at her textbook, Spock allowed himself to gaze down the length of her jaw and neck. Her skin glowed in the soft light, rich and warm. He could see her pulse.

At nine, she thanked him with a sweet smile and showed him out. They lingered on the front porch for as long as they could. 

Uhura watched his headlights all the way to the road. Spock watched his rear view mirror even further.

They were both quiet as they prepared for bed in their separate homes. Thinking. And in Uhura’s case, planning.


	4. Chapter Four: A Private Little War

Bones kicked the ball viciously. It slammed into the net and ricocheted back to him. He kicked again, with much greater force. The ball didn't come out of the goal this time. Undoubtedly it was afraid of him.

He heard the grass crunch behind him. He retrieved the ball from the goal anyway and kicked it again.

"No wonder you're the star quarterback and the star striker," said Sulu. "I've heard you're no good at doubles tennis, though."

"Doesn't matter," growled Bones, giving the ball another whack. "I'm best alone."

"Teamwork, my friend," said Sulu. "As a team sports boy, you should know that."

"Shut up, Hikaru. I'm tryin’ to concentrate."

"No, you're trying to destroy that poor, defenseless soccer ball. Come sit down. I brought you some water."

Bones flopped down next to Sulu without protest. Sulu handed him the bottle and Bones drained it.

"Thanks," Bones said.

"Anytime," said Sulu. "Now, what's up with you and the new kid? He gave you that, didn't he?" he asked, gesturing at the still-distinct mark on Bones's neck.

Bones scowled. "I don't want to talk about Jim."

"Suit yourself."

They sat in silence for a while. It was morning. The trees were a deep amber, dyed by the light of the sun that rose behind their branches. Beams of light sparkled on the dewy grass. Their surroundings were bright and idyllic. Bones hated it.

"Let's go inside," he said.

"I have another idea," said Sulu, removing a little drawstring bag from his backpack. "You need to relax. Here." He handed Bones a neatly rolled joint.

Bones eyed it skeptically. "Would you believe that I've never smoked before?"

"You pre-med types must have no fun. Watch me." He took the joint back, placed it between his lips, and lit the tip, and puffed a little. Then he took a long drag. "It's pretty simple. Seal your lips around it and breathe in. You're probably going to cough. That's okay." He handed the joint back, exhaling the smoke. "Try to hold it in your lungs."

"At least we don't get cancer anymore," Bones muttered. "Bottom's up." He put the joint to his lips, pulled the smoke down his throat and held it there for a moment before breathing out. "Woah. My lungs feel warm.”

"Nice job," said Sulu. "Two more hits each, then we should go inside. By the way, research never established a link between lung cancer and marijuana use."

"Yeah, but the health risks are there." Bones took another hit. "Not that they're botherin’ me at the moment. You, though. How often d’you light up?"

"Twice a week, probably. I've got to keep fast reflexes for pilot training."

"Oh. Good for you. I was gonna to advise you not to smoke too much."

"Hey! You just took two hits! More like the Hypocritical Oath."

They laughed for five straight minutes.

"Tell me about Jim," said Sulu, once they could keep straight faces.

Bones made a face. "Don't know what to say. The boy's uncontrollable. I can’t even understand what goes through his mind half the time. You know he's already slept with Gaila."

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal. Everybody has. Scotty had to remind me last night."

"Gettin’ jealous over the Russian kid, huh? Saw y'all at Shore Leave when I came in."

"You were there?"

"It was where me and Jim had our fight. I chose to do the stormin’ out."

"Oh. He came and hung with us afterwards. He did seem a little distracted."

"I'm sure he was fine," said Bones, an ugly look on his face.

"He seemed quieter than usual. Possibly. I don't know him that well yet."

"If you could get a word in edgewise, he was probably quieter n’ usual."

"What happened with you two, anyway?"

Bones shrugged. "I'm not sure myself. I freaked out on him, I guess. He was just bein’ so mean to Spock—”

"Like you care who's mean to Spock. You're downright rude to him most of the time. May I remind you of the time you called him a green blooded goblin while Ms. Tyvak was right behind you?"

"Okay, sure, that was bad. But he was jus’ bein’ aggravatin’.”

“Leo. It’s an aspect of Spock’s character that he’s aggravating. He can’t help it.”

“Like hell he can’t. Vulcans do that to themselves, y’know. Just because a race can’t keep its emotions down doesn’t mean they have to. Doesn’t mean they should. Aw, never mind. Boy, it’s hard to keep track of what you’re talkin’ about.”

“For the inexperienced, I guess,” said Sulu loftily. Bones aimed a punch at him.

After a while, they spoke again.

“Do you like him?” Sulu asked quietly.

“Jim?” said Bones. He sighed. “I’m not sure.”

“If you’re not sure, then you don’t,” said Sulu. “I’m always sure, when I like somebody.”

“Lucky you.”

“Was it good, at least?”

“What?”

“Being with Jim.”

“We didn’t have sex,” said Bones. “That would’ve been even worse. We just made out. For hours. Shirtless.” He smiled reminiscently. “I hadn’t done that in ages. Not,” he added, suddenly stern, “that I like Jim. At all.”

“’Course not,” grinned Sulu. “The bell’s going to ring soon.”

“Alright, let’s go in.” Bones frowned. “I’m kinda hungry. Got any food?”

“We can stop by the caf,” said Sulu. “God bless the munchies.”

x

Spock was not as annoyed by Kirk that day. Kirk seemed much more subdued; he only occasionally swooped down to snatch an answer from Spock’s grasp, generally appearing contemplative and moody. Spock noted that he did not speak to Bones, who was supposedly his close friend.

After he arrived home the night before, Spock’s mother came in to his room and plopped down on his bed. Spock looked over from his desk to nod at her.

“Come sit, Spock,” she said gently, patting the bed next to her. Obediently, Spock left his books.

Amanda Grayson was a teacher at the elementary school nearby. She was a sweet, wide-eyed woman with pursed lips and an addiction to baking. She seemed very traditional. But she had been a lieutenant commander in Starfleet, and had the scars to show for it. When he was a baby, Spock would trace the gouges on Amanda’s lower arms, the traces of an uncharacteristically vicious attack by an Excalbian. Amanda had left Starfleet to raise Spock and teach, leaving her husband Sarek to diplomacy. She cared immensely for her distant son.

“How has school been so far, dear?”

“Quite well, mother,” said Spock. “I am benefiting from my classes.”

“Good. You never told me how that hovercar meeting went.”

“There was an incident during the meeting. While I attempted a test drive of the car, one of the members discovered a missing part. The car would have exploded had he not informed me of the mistake.”

“What? Spock, are you okay? You didn’t say anything about this.”

“I am unharmed, mother. No damage was done and the hovercar has been repaired.”

“Well now I just don’t know about this hovercar program. How careless of Mr. Pike not to check it over!”

“Montgomery is a perfectly capable engineer, I assure you.”

“Who noticed the part was missing?”

“A new member,” said Spock evasively, quite sure that if he started talking about Kirk with his mother he would blush. As it was, his eyes flashed to the bookcase he had moved in front of the hole in his wall. He changed the subject clumsily. “I do not recall when father is returning from Vulcan.”

“The day after tomorrow. I’ll let you get back to your studies. Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you, mother.”

Amanda smiled fondly at him. “Let me know if you do, dear. I’ll be just in the other room.”

x

By physiology, Bones had come down from his high. The remains of six bags of chips, a carton of powdered sugar donuts, a fourth of a watermelon, a box of fries, and three Dr. Peppers were scattered in his backpack. Evidently his munchies were epic.

Bones only had to shake his head a couple of times before he could pay attention to the teacher, little Ms. Havner, whose soothing voice lulled the post-lunch crowd more effectively than a Yardassian sleep-song. Next to him, Chapel looked bored.

“We were supposed to start talking about sexuality today,” she whispered when he turned to look at her. “But she’s still going on about the damn corpus callosum. We did the brain all last year, can’t we move on?”

“I know how you feel,” Bones whispered back. “We know too much about the brain, but so little about sexuality. I love hearing what science doesn’t know, not what it does know.” He was lying quite a lot. He suspected that he wasn’t going to be much of an improvisator as a doctor; he was definitely more interested in what science did know. Something in him felt like agreeing with Chapel, like trying to impress her.

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, Ms. Havner turned on the projector. The title slide read, “Human Sexuality.” The whole class perked up.

“Ah. Never mind,” whispered Bones. Chapel smiled.

“A basic introduction, to begin,” squeaked Ms. Havner, eyeing the class suspiciously. “During this unit we will discuss the sexual act in great detail. If any of you are squeamish or choose to behave improperly during this time, I suggest you consider the consequences. You will be receiving participation grades during this unit.”

“So she’s going to be assessing our sexual prowess?” said Chapel, making a face. “I can’t wait.”

Bones stifled a laugh. 

“As all of you are aware, humans are considered an omnisexual species,” Ms. Havner said, going to the next slide, which had about ten definitions on it. The class started typing in their notebooks. “While offspring may only be achieved non-medically through heterosexual intercourse, the biological imperative has been found to not differentiate between males and females. It has been theorized that during the middle and late Industrial Revolution, evolution occurred in the direction of central omnisexuality, which allowed humans to transfer their sexual affections to less reproductively compatible partners in order to combat overpopulation. For most of Terran history, humans have viewed themselves as a heterosexual species, despite their obvious omnisexual tendencies. This societal barrier has, thankfully, been broken. While some humans find themselves more homo- or heterosexual, most humans—eighty four percent—say that they are omnisexual, or attracted to all possible genders in basically equal weight. In the past, a more restrictive term was used to represent omnisexuality. Who can tell me what this term is?”

“Bisexuality,” said Gaila from the front row.

“Correct,” said Ms. Havner. “The term was abandoned in the late twenty first century because it was seen as biased against those individuals without an established gender.”

Ms. Havner went to the next slide, eliciting groans from the slower typists. She frowned at the class.

“I will be posting these notes on the Enterprise Database,” she said, “but only because this will be an extremely difficult test. Please do not expect this type of thing for the rest of the year. Now, let us continue. The study of human sexuality…”

x

Another hovercar club meeting was held after school in the shop. Scotty had taken to calling it the Hoverclub, and the term had caught on.

Chekov made sure to stand next to Kirk. He wondered what Kirk would think about what Chekov had done last night. Chekov had never masturbated to the thought of another person before. And he’d never lost quite that much control over his own body. He could feel his ears turning slightly red just thinking about it. He shook his head.

“You okay?” said Kirk mildly. Chekov jumped.

“Oh, oh yes, I am fine, thank you.”

“Hey,” said Kirk, getting a little closer to Chekov. “What are you doing tonight?”

Chekov’s mind went entirely blank. “Uh,” he said. “I am not sure, James.”

“Call me Jim. Listen, I just wanted to—”

“Guys, listen up,” said Pike. “After the, er, event last week, I checked over the hovercar. Just so all of you know, it’s completely safe now. Unless its pilot—” Pike broke off as Sulu came in to the shop, muttering apologies for being late. “—decides to steer it into a tree, no sudden explosions should occur. Now, the qualifying round is next week. We’ll be going up against all of the Hoverclubs in California. The competition is in Riverside.” (Kirk’s ears perked up; he had lived in Riverside, Iowa.) “We’ll have to get there late Thursday night in since the race begins early Friday morning. So yes, you guys get to miss a day of school.”

Everyone grinned (except for Spock). 

Scotty stepped up. “Ah’d like to talk about our competition for a moment. Our biggest challenger is goin’ t’ be Pride High on th’ other side of our own city. Economy and Valor don’t have Hoverclubs of th’ same, er, quality as ourselves. Now, Pride is dangerous because it’s got a madman at its helm.” Scotty cleared his throat and turned to Spock. “D’you mind if ah fill in th’ blanks for our newest members?” he asked. Spock’s lips went white, but he nodded assent. “Well, ‘tis also Pride’s first year in competition. They started their club because we started ours. Last year, at State UIL, Spock caught a Pride student sneakin’ into th’ gradin’ room to fix scores. He, well, he overreacted a bit and nerve-pinched the student, a Romulan lass. And the UIL governing body overreacted a bit too, and threw the whole high school out of competition, which allowed us t’ sweep. We had twenty-three firs’ place finishes last year.

“Now, the leader of this merry band is a Romulan lad named Nero. Ominous, I ken. He’s got it out for Spock and for Enterprise. Apparently th’ lass was Nero’s betrothed. So ah would like t’ warn all of you against any contact with Pride High students. They might try t’ get you to talk about our strategies. Ah hate to be racist, but be especially aware of any Romulans you encounter, since most of them go t’ Pride. So you know, this summer Nero tried to shove Spock off a balcony.” Chekov gasped aloud. Everyone else looked angry. “Be warned.”

“I think we should move on to the strategizing,” said Spock, looking at everyone expectantly. Scotty fetched a map of the track in Riverside. They moved the hovercar out into the open and got down to business.

x

Later that day, Kirk went to the grocery store with his mother. They had no food in the house other than what came in their small emergency synthesizer. Kirk pushed the cart and Winona filled it. As they headed onto the vegetable aisle, Kirk accidentally ran in to a short, kindly-looking woman carrying a basket, knocking her into the shelving.

Kirk hurried forward to help her up. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks,” said the woman. “Sorry I was in your way.”

“No, no, it was all my fault, here, let me help you with that—”

“Really, it’s fine,” said the woman, smiling at Kirk.

“Sorry about my son,” said Winona, appearing from behind the cart. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, really, I’m fine,” said the woman. She smiled at Winona. “He’s a strong boy.”

“I know it. Gets into trouble all the time.”

“I do not!” protested Kirk. Both women laughed. 

“I’ve got one his age,” said the woman. “Doesn’t know his own strength. Punched a hole through his wall yesterday and thought I wouldn’t notice.”

“How perfect! Mothers know everything. Jim, honey, go get a roast for tomorrow night, and a package of chicken breast. Now, mine, he has to be told what to do around the house or he’ll just go off into his own little world…”

Kirk scowled as he loped off to the meat department. His mother was much too fond of talking about him as if he wasn’t there. Near the deli, he spotted Spock sorting through the cheese bin, looking oddly domestic with a shopping bag and a non-collared shirt. Kirk couldn’t resist calling out to him.

“Hey, Spock! Fancy meeting you here.”

Spock looked momentarily up from the cheese bin and then back down again. “Greetings, James.”

“What do you think of my promotion to VP? A beef roast, please,” he added to the butcher machine. “Still, I’ll bet you end up being a more logical driver.”

“No doubt,” said Spock, holding a red Wensleydale up to his eye. 

Kirk narrowed his eyes. Spock should be responding more.

“You studying for Maru’s test?”

“Extensively.”

“I bet you beat me on it.”

“As do I.”

“I’ll do my best, though.”

“I’m sure you will, James. I must go. It was pleasant to see you.” Spock’s tone stated differently, however.

“Oh wait, I’m done too,” said Kirk, grabbing the finished roast from the butcher and snatching a carton of chicken out of a bin. “What kind of cheese did you get?”

Spock’s shoulders had set resignedly. “Brie and blue Pendrashian. Why do you inquire?”

“Just curious. I’m here for meats.” He held up the roast and chicken, doing his best to keep in stride with Spock’s long legs.

“Meat is an unnecessary and barbaric food that I have never understood the human predisposition towards,” said Spock. 

“Clearly you’ve never had a quality filet mignon, rare,” said Kirk, grinning. “It melts in your mouth, there’s so much blood.”

Spock closed his eyes as if in prayer. “That is disgusting, James.”

“I try,” said Kirk modestly. By now, Kirk had followed Spock to a central aisle, where he spotted Winona, still in conversation with the woman he had accidentally run in to.

“I found the cheese, mother,” said Spock, approaching the woman.

Are you fucking serious, Kirk thought. Of course. Of course. “Uh, hey mom. Got the meat.”

Spock stared at him. Kirk tried to smile nicely at him, but the expression appeared on his face as more of an apologetic grimace. “Listen, before you try to punch me or anything, I’d just like to say that I’m really sorry I hit your mom with the shopping cart, I didn’t mean to—”

“You what?” snapped Spock. 

“I think our boys know each other,” Amanda whispered to Winona, who was watching them with avid interest.

“One does get that feeling,” Winona replied. “But they don’t seem to like each other, do they?”

“Oh, I think they do,” said Amanda, a slight smile on her lips.

x

The Hoverclub had made plans to join up at the Shore Leave at around nine. Kirk arrived with his hands in his pockets, slightly afraid to be there considering how much Spock and Bones hated him these days. Sure enough, when he saw Bones, he refused to acknowledge Kirk’s presence, as he had all day. Kirk sighed and took a seat near the back of the table Scotty and Uhura had claimed. To his surprise, Chekov sat down next to him once more. He saw Sulu’s eyes narrow. Oh shit, he didn’t want to get involved in this, not when everybody could tell Sulu was so in to Chekov.

Chekov leaned in close to Kirk, who saw Sulu’s face go blank out of the corner of his eye. “You wanted to say something to me earlier, James—Jim,” he said softly into Kirk’s ear.

Kirk couldn’t help but shudder a little. Chekov’s dirty angel façade was quite compelling.

“Uh, yeah,” said Kirk. “It was actually just a warning about Gaila. I figured that since she’d taken me down, you’d be next, and I wanted to make sure she didn’t try the Farragon on you, because that’s some weird shit, and that’s not what you were expecting me to say, was it.”

Chekov frowning. “No, it was not. I thought you were interested in me.”

“Oh. Well. No offense. But I’m not really your type.”

“I do not haf a type, Jim.”

“Er, well, I do. And you’re really pretty and everything, and don’t get me wrong, I’d love to fuck you sometime, but I’m pretty sure I’d get my balls chopped off if I made moves on you.”

“I am sorry, what do you mean?”

God, Chekov was even closer now. His sexiness was overpowering. Kirk pulled out of Chekov’s sphere, highly uncomfortable. Sulu was openly glaring at him at this point. He wanted to shout, This isn’t my fault! Clearly karma was kicking in.

“I mean that I really don’t think you and I getting together would be a good idea, Pavel.”

Chekov stood and approached Kirk, coming to lean over him, cornering him.

“No,” said Kirk, standing and putting a hand on Chekov’s chest to push him back. Almost immediately, Sulu was next to them, holding Kirk’s wrist in a vice-like grip. 

“Get away from him,” he said coldly to Kirk.

“Hey,” said Uhura, leaning around Sulu. “Are you guys okay?”

“No,” snapped Sulu. “Jim won’t stop harassing Pavel.”

“What?! I was not harassing Pavel, if anything he was harassing me—”

“As if,” snarled Bones, who had also appeared. “You can’t even keep off of a sixteen year old? God, what is your problem?”

“This is not my fault!” cried Kirk. “He was seriously hitting on me! Tell them, Pavel!”

“I—I was only responding to your proximity earlier,” said Pavel, confused and a little frightened. He moved back next to Kirk, clutching his arm protectively.

“Yeah, okay, you are so not helping,” said Kirk, prying Chekov off of him. He spotted Spock behind Bones, Uhura, and Sulu and couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Uhura glanced backwards to see who he was looking at. A very still expression covered her face. She grabbed Kirk’s arm and dragged him all the way out of the room, down the stairs and outside, where she pushed him against a wall.

“You have made everything worse,” growled Uhura. “You have got to quit messing with Hikaru like that. I told him what you were doing before Hoverclub today. And you can’t just antagonize Spock like that. Tl;dr, you can’t just waltz in here and fuck everything up.”

“I have done one bad thing,” said Kirk angrily, “and that was conning Bones into my bed.” Uhura gasped, but Kirk ignored her. “First off, Spock needed to be taken down a notch. Second, I was not hitting on Pavel. And third, I did not waltz in here and fuck everything up. Evidently all of you are pretty fucked up on your own. I’m not completely sure why everyone’s been so angry lately.”

Uhura sighed, backing down. “I’m not angry. I rarely get angry. I’m just telling you so that nobody else has to. Listen, I’m not as mad at you as the others are. And their reasons for being mad are pretty understandable. Spock doesn’t like being shown up, and Hikaru’s obviously pretty attached to Pavel. And if what you said about Leo is true, well, he just got out of a three year relationship with Jocelyn Darnell, and you shouldn’t be playing with him like that.”

Kirk lowered his eyes. “Okay. You’re right. I’ll be nicer. But the Pavel thing? Not my fault.”

Uhura laughed. “Good luck with that. I still bet Hikaru’s going to skin you alive when he gets a chance.”

“Dammit. You think?”

“I know. Hikaru is very possessive.”

“He’s not even dating Pavel!”

“See last comment.” Uhura flipped open her communicator. “Spock. Want to tutor me? I’m about ready to get out of here.”

“I would enjoy leaving with you,” Spock replied. “I will be downstairs momentarily.”

Kirk made a face. “That wasn’t much of a social gathering.”

“I’m sure it’ll be better next time. Just… try to talk to Hikaru some time, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks.” Kirk smiled at her. “It was nice talking to you, Nyota.”

“Yeah, you too. Now quit fucking everything up.”

“Can’t promise anything.”

Spock exited the building. Seeing Kirk, his eyes went cold.

“Are you ready to depart, Nyota?” he asked. 

“Yes,” said Uhura. “Bye, Jim.”

“See you tomorrow, Nyota,” said Kirk. He watched the two of them disappear into the dark, wondering what on earth Uhura saw in Spock anyway.

x


	5. Chapter Five: Court Martial

For the next week, the senior class studied frantically for Mr. Maru’s first exam, the evil one Gaila had told Kirk about. The literature for the test consisted of Oedipus Rex and Antigone. The class were trying to practically memorize the plays. Spock was doing quite well on this front; he had committed to memory the important passages and was focusing now on minutiae he thought Mr. Maru might ask about.

Kirk, in his haphazard way of studying, simply read the plays twice a day, highlighting things that interested him. They had started school on a Monday; the test was held on the second Wednesday of the year.

As Kirk rode to school that second Wednesday, he reflected on the past week. He definitely liked San Francisco more than Riverside, Iowa. Not only was the city larger and more interesting, the people were better. And he got to make an at least semi-fresh start, although that hadn’t gone quite as well as he’d planned. His standing amongst the Hoverclub members had improved slightly as he got nicer to Spock and further away from Chekov (Sulu was even acknowledging his existence now). He’d hung out at the Shore Leave with them a few more times without getting slapped or yelled at or hit on by anyone. He was sort of becoming friends with Uhura. But not all was right with the world. Chekov was still paying more attention to him that he would like, and Bones still wasn’t speaking to him. Kirk hadn’t really had a chance to talk to Bones about their fight. He’d either been studying or attempting to improve his image, and he didn’t think that getting into a yelling match with Bones in front of the others was going to help anything.

But the problem was, he didn’t know what to say to Bones. He didn’t feel nearly as bad as he knew he should for tricking him into the makeout session; it had just been too much fun for him to regret it. He thought Bones might be legitimately attracted to him, but then he realized that it might be Bones reacting to the first semi-sexual contact he’d had since he’d broken up with Jocelyn. And (Kirk’s mind was going at warp speed putting all of this together) since Bones had started dating Jocelyn three and a half years ago, that meant that Bones was only fifteen, and Kirk was willing to bet quite a lot of money that Bones at fifteen wasn’t particularly interested in sex. In fact, he’d still been talking with Bones at that point, and no, Bones hadn’t so much as kissed anybody yet, because he was still in his “other humans are covered in horrible deadly germs and must not be approached without a biohazard suit” phase, which thankfully he had eventually learned to function with. But then again, before some middle school teacher had accidently slipped Bones a copy of The Hot Zone, Bones had really loved playing doctor.

So, unless something happened in the summer between when he and Jocelyn broke up and Kirk arrived, Bones had only ever made out with Jocelyn before this.

Huh, pondered Kirk, no wonder he’s freaking out. And then Kirk wondered if Bones and Jocelyn had been having sex. Surely they had. They were in high school. They were human. They were dating. It was practically inevitable. 

But, he considered the course he’d surmised the relationship had gone. In the first year, they had been good together, close and strong. In the second year, Jocelyn had lost interest, but Bones hadn’t. In the third year, they just coasted, together but apart. And if they were so young during their most passionate time, then, maybe, just maybe, Bones was still a virgin. 

If so, then Kirk had to borrow a word from Spock: Fascinating.

x

Mr. Maru’s exams were the stuff of legend. They were basically impossible to cheat on. Mr. Maru was not allowed to festoon his testing room with keyhole cameras, so he took extreme measures to prevent academic dishonesty.

The tests were not given in his regular classroom, but in a lecture hall that differed every year and was not assigned until the night before. Everyone was required to turn in their communicators before the test. They were scanned by metal detectors (a rarely-used right reserved to test-giving teachers) before they entered the room, were assigned styli and answer documents, and received clean copies of the test. Absolutely no food or drink was allowed in the room. No jackets, no hats, no gloves. Hands, arms, and legs were checked. Bathroom breaks were not allowed.

Kirk felt like he was entering a prison. None of the other students looked too happy either. Mr. Maru stood at the front of the room, glaring at all of them.

“This is more like it,” he said once everybody had found his or her assigned seats. “Let’s get started.”

Kirk was prepared for a difficult test. But he wasn’t prepared for such a useless one. The questions were exactly as Gaila had described: How many letter O’s are in the first speech by Oedipus in Oedipus Rex? A) 24 B) 41 C) 49 D) 38 E) 34. When the Chorus speaks for the fifth time on page 14 in Antigone, what is the second punctuation mark used? A) , B) ; C) – D) ? E) (. 

This is insane, thought Kirk, gaping at the screen. These questions were literally impossible.

He and the rest of the class sweated through the test. People either turned their tests in ten minutes after class had begun or near the very end. Kirk and Spock were some of the last to finish. Outside the room, the survivors were consoling each other. 

“God, that was horrible,” said Kirk hollowly, exiting with Gaila, who looked positively livid.

“Every year that test pisses me off,” she growled. "It does nothing to actually evaluate our intelligence. I feel so helpless while I'm taking it."

"The experience can be educational," said Spock. "I can see what Mr. Maru is attempting to teach us with the exam. We cannot know everything. We cannot always succeed."

Kirk and Gaila just glared at Spock.

x

Mr. Maru posted the results after school. Spock was the only student to receive above a 40 (he got a 42). Most of the class made between a 25 and a 35. Kirk, to his horror, received exactly the class average, a 31. He had never, ever gotten below a 95 on a test before. He stared at the grades for a while, despondent. Nobody was particularly sympathetic, although Scotty patted him kindly on the shoulder. 

After everyone else had wandered away, Kirk knocked on Mr. Maru’s door. The lights came on and Mr. Maru opened the door a crack, looking suspicious.

“Can I help you?” he asked Kirk.

“I’d like to take the test again,” said Kirk.

“That’s against school policy,” said Mr. Maru. “A final grade’s a final grade.”

“I’m not even going to try to argue that it’s an unfair test,” said Kirk. “Which it is. You don’t have to give me the grade I get the second time around. I just—I just want to try again. Right now.”

Mr. Maru raised his eyebrows. “An interesting request,” he said. “Actually, I’ve been waiting for quite awhile for somebody to ask to retake it. Nobody has. So, I’d love for you to. Come in. And good luck.”

x

The next day, a crowd gathered around the grades once more. Kirk, later than usual, hurried up to English amongst even more interested stares than normal. He paused at the edge of the mass of students, confused. Scotty emerged from the crowd, grabbed his arm, and drew him over to the grades.

Wordlessly, Scotty pointed to Kirk’s grade, which had been crossed out. “26. Nice try” was written next to it.

“What happened?” Uhura demanded. “Did you try to cheat or something?”

“I retook the test,” said Kirk, feeling hollow. “Guess it didn’t go too well.”

“How can you have retaken it?” said Uhura. “You’ve already seen the questions.”

Spock broke in. “I believe that Mr. Maru composes close to seven hundred questions for this exam and randomly fills each individual test with fifty of those queries. Undoubtedly he made sure James had not seen any of questions on the second test before he gave it to him.”

Kirk was thinking. “Where do you suppose he keeps the questions?”

“Excuse me?” said Spock sharply. “James, you cannot be suggesting—”

“I’m just wondering,” said Kirk lightly, feeling much better as an idea unfolded in his mind. “I would never do anything dishonest.” He grinned at the crowd. “You know, I think I’ll try to take that test again.”

“James, cheating one of the most severely punished crimes a student—”

“I’m not going to cheat, Spock,” said Kirk mildly. “I’m just going to take a test.”

x

It took some work to convince Mr. Maru to let him take the test a third time, but he managed. Since the Hoverclub was leaving at four thirty to get to Riverside by seven, Kirk took the test during the last part of his study hall period. He came back early, chomping arrogantly on an apple. A fleck of juice flew into Spock’s eye as Kirk passed him. Spock sat up, positively glaring at Kirk, who flashed him a brilliant smile. 

“That was fun,” he said, flopping down into his seat.

Uhura rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it was. Maybe you’ll bring up your grade this time, get a 32 or something.”

“Oh, I think I did pretty well,” said Kirk, mouth full of apple but still managing to look smug. “I studied a bit before I took it. Probably raised my grade quite a lot.”

x

It took until fifth period for Mr. Maru to run the test through the grader, and it wasn’t until sixth period that he had recovered enough from shock to storm down to economics and slam the door open. The entire class, including Ms. Okogbo, jumped in their seats.

“James Tiberius Kirk,” growled Mr. Maru, so furious he ignored Ms. Okogbo’s alarmed exclamations. “How the hell did you get a perfect score on this test?”

“Me?” piped Kirk, the picture of innocence. “A perfect score? How surprising!”

“It cannot possibly be surprising to you that you got a hundred on this! You had to have cheated!”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Kirk sweetly. “Surely you recall sitting there and watching me take the entire test. You checked me for clues or answers, took away my jacket, did all of the usual. Looked at my desk. Gave me a stylus. Mr. Maru, I took the test I was given.”

“Bull,” said Mr. Maru. “You can’t have known all of those answers.”

“Ask me the questions right now. I’ll know the answers.”

“Question thirty six,” Mr. Maru read off the PADD he was holding. “What proper noun is used in line two hundred and thirty of Oedipus Rex?”

“Thrace.”

“Twenty one. In line two sixty one of the same, how many punctuations marks are used?”

“One, a comma.”

“Forty eight. How many letter A’s are used between lines 783 and 801 of Antigone?”

“Twenty four.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

Kirk shrugged. “I’m really very intelligent.”

“You must, I do mean absolutely must have cheated.”

“I took the test I was given,” Kirk repeated.

Mr. Maru was frozen with rage. Kirk watched him impassively. 

“Principal’s office,” he spat. “Right now.”

x

Principal Barnett had already heard quite a lot about James Kirk from other teachers, all of it positive, although there was some mention of him being a bit conceited. He did not expect to meet Kirk under such circumstances.

Mr. Maru insisted that Kirk had cheated on the test. Principal Barnett had dealt with Mr. Maru’s cheaters before; a number of students had attempted to improve their grades on Maru’s exam by academic dishonesty, but none had been so successful, or so discreet. Mr. Maru was forced to admit that he had kept an eye on Kirk the entire time Kirk had taken the test. Kirk enthusiastically denied that he had cheated while taking the test. But Principal Barnett had noticed something strange about Kirk’s use of tenses.

“You deny cheating while you were taking the test.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you say that you simply took the test you were given. That you knew all of the answers on that version of the test. A version of the test that Mr. Maru had not given you previously.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, Kobayashi, I think we have our solution,” said Barnett, turning in his chair to look at Mr. Maru. “Mr. Kirk did not cheat during the test. He cheated before the test.”

Kirk nodded solemnly. “That I did, sir.”

Mr. Maru was bamboozled. “But… how?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” said Barnett.

“If the game is up?” said Kirk, looking at them. “I guess it is. Well, I’d heard that Mr. Maru wrote a lot of questions for the test. So I just hacked in to the school’s computer system, accessed Mr. Maru’s file of questions, deleted fifty, added fifty of my own creation, sorted them in, and sent them to the top of the list to make sure Mr. Maru would assign me those questions.”

The men started at Kirk.

“You what?” said Barnett.

“I hacked into the school’s computer system, accessed—”

“Okay, that right there,” said Barnett. “It’s basically impossible to hack into the school’s computer system. No—for a student? It is impossible. If you have that depth of knowledge of programming, you shouldn’t be in high school.”

“That’s why I’m graduating early, sir.”

“How much time did you have to do this?” Barnett demanded.

“Oh, I wrote the questions during second and third and skipped to the computer lab to do the hacking during fourth,” said Kirk. “You can ask my teachers. I was oddly distracted. And the lab monitors were worrying about a strange virus that was attacking the system and ignoring little old me.”

“You will not be so flippant about this,” Mr. Maru growled. “You will receive a zero for the test grade and be placed on academic suspension.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Barnett calmly. “As the principal, I am in charge of disciplining students. Now, there’s nothing I can do about you getting a zero, Mr. Kirk, but if my calculations are correct—and providing you receive straight one hundreds for the rest of the year—your GPA will only be lowered by zero point zero zero zero eight points. Meaning that you would still be ranked first in your class, exactly zero point zero zero zero three points ahead of Mr. Spock. I would like to both put you on and take you off of academic suspension.” Barnett pressed a few buttons on the PADD before him. “There. Your time on academic suspension has been registered. Now, report to the computer lab. Ms. Valence is in charge of the computer system here; let her know what you’ve done and help her figure out how to stop anybody else from doing it.” Barnett smiled at Kirk. “I was never very good at discipline. Consider Ms. Valence in charge of your punishment. You will report to her every day until this school has established a truly secure firewall.”

Mr. Maru was positively foaming with indignation. Kirk leapt up, saluted and thanked Principal Barnett, and fled, chuckling.

x

Kirk sidled back into class near the end of seventh period. Mr. Gyan had allowed them to work on their homework since eight of the class were going to be gone the next day for the race in Riverside. Kirk got the homework assignment and sat down in the midst of the Hoverclub.

“What th’ hell happened back there?” Scotty demanded. “Did you really make a hundred on th’ test?”

“Yep,” said Kirk. “Except now it’s a zero. Evidently Mr. Maru doesn’t like cheating.”

“Have you been placed on academic suspension?” Spock demanded. “Because if you have, you will not be able to accompany us to Riverside.”

“Yeah, I have been. But I got taken off. Barnett was impressed with me, he only entered the suspension on my record.”

“He was impressed?” said Uhura.

“By my ability to cheat.”

“Academic dishonesty is not impressive,” said Spock loftily. “It is despicable and I refuse to believe that a principal such as Dr. Barnett would allow you to escape unpunished.”

“I’m not unpunished. I have to report to Ms. Valence every day until they get the school firewall working and improved again.”

“It’s broken?” said Chapel. 

“I, uh, might have been less than subtle when I hacked into the school’s mainframe.”

There was a silence.

“You hacked into the school’s computer system?” said Sulu, speaking to Kirk for the first time since last Wednesday. 

“A little, yeah.”

“You cannae have,” said Scotty. “’Tis impossible. Ah can’t do it. Gaila and Sulu can’t do it. Spock’s never tried, but ah assume he can’t either.”

“Of course I would never attempt such an idiotic thing as breaking in to the school’s—”

“Shut it, Spock. It’s not impossible, guys. It’s really not that hard at all, actually.” Kirk looked around at them. “Really, it’s not. I don’t know why everyone’s so impressed.”

“When did you do this?” asked Sulu.

“Right before lunch,” said Kirk.

“You were in third period,” said Sulu. “You can’t expect us to believe that you did this in the thirty minutes before lunch.”

“Guys, seriously, it’s not a big deal. Listen, I want to check my answer on number twenty, have any of you—”

“You’re on number twenty already?” said Scotty. “Alright, laddie, ah’m beginnin’ to think that Mr. Maru’s exam might have been good for you. You need t’ be taken down a notch.”

“I do not! My notches are fine where they are.”

The bell rang. Kirk gathered up his things quickly, but was cornered in his desk by Scotty and Spock.

“We’ll talk more with you on th’ ride,” said Scotty almost menacingly, pointing a finger in Kirk’s face. Spock, disapproving to the extreme, nodded sharply behind him.

Kirk disentangled himself and rushed home to get his bag, thinking that joining the Hoverclub might not have been a good idea after all.

x

Kirk tried to hide at the back of the transport, but Scotty hunted him down and dragged him to the front. McCoy and Chapel were sitting further back, near Sulu and Chekov. But Uhura, Spock, and Scotty were standing in front of Kirk and staring menacingly down at him. Kirk gulped.

“We have elected to let Spock speak to you about your behavior during Mr. Maru’s test,” said Uhura coldly. She and Scotty sat down nearby. Pike chose to ignore what was happening. He pulled the transport out of the parking garage and started off down Talon Street towards I-5.

“Let me begin by stating that I know what you feel about the test,” said Spock. “You may be skeptical, but I assure you that I had never received a grade lower than a 94 before I started Mr. Maru’s class in my freshman year. However, this does not mean that I agree with your decision to cheat. I feel that Mr. Maru was attempting to make a point to his students. All of us expect to receive 6.0’s, a college education, a good career, and a long life, among other luxuries. But we will not necessarily be given those things. Our privilege extends to our grades; our parents have influenced our lives enough that most of us are psychologically incapable of doing badly in school or in life without experiencing crippling mental consequences. Mr. Maru is simply helping us by presenting us with a no-win situation.”

“There is where you’re wrong,” said Kirk angrily. “I don’t believe in no-win scenarios. And you may have lived in the lap of luxury all of your life, but I certainly haven’t. Maybe you higher class archons get grades and careers and happiness served to you on a silver platter, but just because my mom is in Starfleet doesn’t mean I’m a spoiled brat like you. Maru’s test was completely unjust. He doesn’t get to arbitrarily decide what is fair or not, because then that gives everybody else the excuse to do the same thing. We’re trying to rid the universe of no-win situations. Why should anyone let a no-win situation be set up? Surely modern methods of teaching can educate us about the no-win situations we’re forced in to without actually sticking us in one.”

“Perhaps, but perhaps not. Mr. Maru’s test is designed simply to show us that we cannot have everything. It is crafted to inspire fear within us, fear of failure and of the unknown and of losing control, so that we avoid these things and so that if we cannot avoid them we know how to deal with them.”

Kirk was starting to look really pissed off. “Listen, Spock, I don’t need to know anything else about not being in control. I don’t need another damn lesson in fear. I’ve worked really fucking hard to get to where I am and one bitch of a teacher trying to teach pampered babies a lesson is not going to get in my way.”

Spock opened his mouth to speak, but Kirk cut him off, standing.

“No,” he said, putting his hand against Spock’s throat to stop him from speaking. “You will not say another word to me on this subject. You don’t know anything about me. No-win situations do not exist. They may seem like they do, but you always have a choice. There is always a third option, another way out. If you deny this, and find yourself in what seems to be a no-win situation, what will you do? Die? Fail? Or cheat, just to survive? Live or succeed when you don’t deserve to? I know what the other options are, and I reject them. You can get as mad at me as you want to about cheating on that test, but you cannot tell me that it was the wrong thing to do. People are supposed to stand up for what’s right, even if they go about it in the wrong way.”

Kirk finished. His hand was still on Spock’s throat. He could feel the blood pulsing under Spock’s skin. His flesh was burning hot. Spock’s expression seemed loose, as if he were having a difficult time concentrating. Slowly, Kirk removed his hand, his fingers cooling, the pulse gone. The boys stared at each other for a moment.

“Your argument is logical,” said Spock hoarsely. “I will not speak to you on the subject again.” With that, he sat heavily on the seat next to him.

Kirk removed himself to his seat in the back of the bus. When he was sure Spock wasn’t looking, he wiped his hand on his shirt, disgusted.

Suddenly Bones was settling down next to him with the strangest expression on his face. 

“Listen, Jim,” said Bones, staring at his knees, “I don’t know how to—well, I’m not sure—aw, hell, I’m sorry, alright?”

“It’s fine, Bones,” said Kirk, throwing his arm around him. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have mistreated you like that.”

“Naw, it was my fault for not keepin’ you in line. And you’re right, I did you wrong when I ran off with Jocelyn an’ ignored you. Are we good?”

“We’re good,” said Kirk. He grinned at Bones. “Spock can be a real pointy-eared bastard, can’t he?” he said to Bones.

“Yeah,” said Bones, laughing. “But I like him.” He looked out the window. “Looks like we’re almost to Riverside.”

“Yup, pretty close,” said Kirk, peering out too. “Wonder what hotel Pike will have chosen for us.”

Oh. Right, thought Bones. Sleeping arrangements. Well, this should be fun.

x


	6. Chapter Six: A Piece of the Action

The transport slowed to a halt; Pike had just exited off of I-5 and hit a stoplight. They were close to Riverside now. Kirk watched the other transports and cars outside the window speeding along the highway at hundreds of miles per hour. Transports and cars were magnetized to rails installed along the highways, meaning that they could travel at any speed safely and without steering. Once you got off the highways, the rails disappeared. The skill roads, as the roads without rails were called, were still protected by magnetic lanes that did not allow vehicles to hit each other. 

They reached Riverside fifteen minutes later. It was an old city, founded in the nineteenth century. A few 20th century buildings still remained in the city center, surrounded by younger and crisper structures. The hotel Pike had booked was in the Canyon Crest neighborhood, near one of the schools they would be competing against. Pike parked the transport in the hotel parking lot and stood to address them.

“After we check in and drop our bags off, we’ll go get some food and then come back. Over dinner and afterwards we’ll need to discuss our plan of action.”

The hotel, the Gatecrest, was an original 21th century building, complete with a brick exterior. The décor inside was equally ancient. The lamps all had light bulbs in them, and the carpet on the floor was rough and fuzzy. Pike got their room chips and turned to his milling students.

“Four rooms,” he said, holding up nine chips, one for each of them. “One for me, one for the girls. You boys can divide yourselves into two groups of three. Go ahead, I need to give you your chips.”

Chekov, a determined expression on his face, started towards Kirk, who backed up hurriedly and latched himself onto Bones and Spock. “I’m with them,” he said. Chekov looked disappointed, Sulu looked relieved, and Scotty looked positively alarmed.

“Ach, well,” said Scotty, eyeing Sulu and Chekov gingerly. “Ah suppose ah’ll room with these laddies.”

Pike handed out the cards wordlessly. Uhura and Chapel grinned at each other. All of the boys looked uncomfortable, except for Spock, who looked slightly confused.

The rooms were all in a row. Kirk unlocked his door quickly and bustled inside, chivvying Spock and Bones in and locking the door behind them. He fell against the wall, relieved.

“Close call,” said Bones, grinning. “Be a shame for Sulu to have to cut your heart out, Jim.”

“I do not understand,” said Spock, his eyebrows raised. “What has James done to offend Hikaru?”

“What hasn’t he done,” chuckled Bones. “Hikaru’s madly in love with Pavel, but Pavel seems to prefer Jim. If Jim thought Hikaru was an option, I’m sure this could all be straightened out (‘scuze the pun), but—”

“Hikaru really doesn’t seem like the threesome type,” said Kirk, peering through the peephole. “Good idea, though. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“According to scientific journals, polyamory is defined as a physical and emotional bond shared equally between three people; when these bonds are not equal—”

“Yes, Spock, thank you,” said Bones. “I was talkin’ more about a ménage a trois, but hey, it’s just semantics.”

“I still do not—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kirk interrupted. “How much time do you think we have?”

“Mr. Pike requested our presence in the lobby in exactly twenty seven point two four minutes.”

“Awesome.” Kirk threw himself onto the only bed in the room, then looked around. “Why the hell is there just one of these?”

“Pull-out couch,” grunted Bones, flicking through a copy of The Lancet on his PADD.

“Ah,” said Kirk. He glanced at Spock, who was studiously unpacking his bag. “Where do you want to sleep, Spock?”

Bones didn’t know what was happening until it was too late.

“I would prefer the pull-out couch, James,” said Spock. “I would rather not share a bed with either of you, no offense meant to Leonard.”

Kirk caught the insult, but ignored it to grin widely at Bones, who was lowering his PADD with a horrified look on his face. “Wait just a second there, Spock,” he said. “I’m not sleepin’ with Jim.”

“Again,” coughed Kirk.

“I will pay you good money to take the bed,” said Bones desperately. “Hundreds of credits. Maybe thousands.”

Spock looked concerned. He hesitated.

“Aw, come on, Bones,” whined Kirk. “You’ll be cold at night without a warm body to curl up to.”

“Tens of thousands, Spock. Hundreds.”

Spock felt the tips of his ears turn slightly green. He would never have offered to sleep in the same bed as Kirk on his own, but Bones was asking him to. He’d been trying to avoid temptation, but—but this was too good of an opportunity to resist. As the Vulcan in him gave up, the human in him positively sparked with excitement.

“Fine, Leonard. You may have the couch.”

“I will worship at your feet. Want anythin’? I can fetch it.”

“I require nothing at the current time, but thank you for your offer.”

“Aww, you’re no fun,” said Kirk, wrinkling his nose at Spock. Then his expression changed. “Well, maybe not.”

“I fail to understand your meaning,” said Spock, even though he completely understood Kirk’s meaning, and could feel his ears getting greener.

“Ignore him,” said Bones, who had turned back to his PADD. “He’s just bein’ a perv, as usual.” He added to Kirk, “Now remember, don’t go molestin’ Spock unless he wants it, alright? So basically, don’t go molsetin’ Spock.”

Spock was utterly silent. He could feel Kirk’s eyes on his back. He finished unpacking his bag and turned to sit on the couch, bringing a textbook with him. He glanced over at the bed. Kirk was still watching him. 

Spock gave him his coldest stare. When Kirk’s expression lightened and he looked away, Spock gulped hugely and tried to concentrate on his textbook.

Kirk, no matter how much Spock irritated him, had gotten used to having him around to bother. It occurred to him that he could discomfort Spock even more by trying to emotionally destabilize him in Kirk’s own special way—the way that involved sharing a bed. He knew he was being mean, but he didn’t much care; he was having a difficult time feeling the connection with Spock that he felt with everybody else in the Hoverclub. Still, he knew he felt something for the boy other than amusement, even if he wasn’t sure what. He passed it off as fleeting and connected to hormones, which were untrustworthy damn things anyway.

x

Scotty didn’t even enter the room with Sulu and Chekov. He knocked frantically on the girls’ door.

“Please can ah sleep here tonight,” he said when Uhura opened the door.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Uhura, pursing her lips. “I’m pretty sure it’s against school rules to mix sexes in hotel rooms.”

“Listen, ah dunnae think you understand, lass. Ah will be sleepin’ in your room tonight.”

Uhura laughed. “I was kidding, Monty. C’mon in.”

Chapel was brushing her teeth in the bathroom. She waved at Scotty. “Ah’ll sleep over here on th’ sofa,” Scotty muttered, dumping his bag there. “If Pike finds out and tries t’ put me back in their room, ah’ll just—sleep in th’ lobby or somethin’.”

“Basically,” said Uhura. She sighed, flopping down on the bed. “I’m all envious of Leo and Jim.”

“Spock, huh?”

“Yeah. How great of an opportunity is this? A hotel, for God’s sake. This couldn’t be better if I was in a cave with hypothermia and he had to use his sexy Vulcan body heat to keep me warm.”

“Except for a minor detail. You’re not in his room.”

“Like you said, a minor detail. I’ll come up with something.” 

x

In Sulu and Chekov’s room, Chekov had just announced that he was going to take a shower before dinner.

Sulu nearly fainted right then and there. 

“I’ll be quick,” promised Chekov, pulling his shirt over his head.

Sulu had to sit down on the bed. Did that just happen? Holy fuck, am I really looking at Chekov’s naked torso?

Chekov bent down to get his shampoo out of his suitcase. His abs flexed.

Yes. Yes I am. Oh wow. Oh just wow.

Chekov disappeared into the bathroom. Sulu listened closely to clothes hitting the floor. As soon as Chekov turned the shower on, he flipped open his communicator.

“Uhura,” he hissed. “Pavel is showering. I’m going to die.”

“Oh shit, really?” she said. “Congratulations, man. What are you going to do when he gets out of the shower and walks into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist? Have I mentioned that he’ll be dripping wet?”

“Like I said, I will die. I will sit here and I will die of happiness and joy and rainbows and sexiness. Oh and tell Monty I love him.”

“Anytime you need me t’ leave a room, ah’d be glad. ‘Tis quite easy,” he heard Scotty call.

When Chekov did emerge from the bathroom, he was fully clothed, but his hair was damp. Sulu had done his best to compose himself into a natural position, but Chekov shot him a worried look.

“Are you feeling okay, Hikaru?” he asked.

“’M fine,” said Sulu, tight-lipped. “Dinner’s soon. You ready to go?”

“Yes, yes, I am wery near to ready to go,” said Chekov. “I—oh.”

Sulu looked over. Chekov was holding up a pair of slim black briefs and staring from them to his jeans.

“Oh,” said Chekov again. “I have forgotten to put these on.” He returned to the bathroom.

Sulu fell back on the bed and gave thanks to all of the gods he could think of.

x

Dinner was fraught with tension. Spock, uncomfortable around Kirk once more, had elected to sit next to Uhura, who was doing her best to entertain him. Chapel had chosen a seat that accidentally separated Sulu and Chekov. And Chekov had sat down next to Kirk, who was leaning into Bones, who was trying to ignore Kirk’s body heat. 

Only Scotty looked utterly unconcerned. He, Pike, and Spock discussed the race with minimal input from Kirk and Sulu, who were both doing their best to ignore Chekov.

The meal could not end fast enough. They had done enough planning: Spock knew the layout of the racecourse perfectly well, as did Kirk (who, as VP, would pilot if something happened to Spock). The final touches to be put on the hovercar could be done the next morning by Scotty and Sulu.

“You guys seem extraneous,” said Kirk, addressing Uhura, Bones, and Chapel.

“We helped put it together this summer,” said Chapel. “We worked on the blueprint and the design. If Scotty needs us to help with maintenance, we’ll be there. We’re not totally useless.”

“Shocking,” said Kirk.

Uhura rolled her eyes at him. Chapel smiled. Bones growled.

When they got back to the hotel, Pike let everyone head back to their rooms. Spock, being Spock, still had questions for Pike, so the two of them stayed in the lobby, which meant that Scotty didn’t have to pretend to go into Sulu and Chekov’s room.

In Kirk’s room, Bones had taken over the bed. He was laying on his back, holding his PADD above his head, still reading medical journals.

“What’s up?” said Kirk, bounding onto the bed like a puppy.

“Great article on mental retardation,” said Bones. “I quote, ‘Test Subject Kirk has greatly advanced our understandin’ of true stupidity.’”

“I live to serve.” He put a hand on Bones’s arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” snapped Bones.

“You don’t seem fine,” said Kirk. Bones heard something different in his tone. The kid actually sounded concerned.

“Well…” said Bones, turning off his PADD. He rolled over to look at Kirk. “I just—I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“I’m not sure,” said Bones. “I have a bad feelin’.” He shook his head as if to dislodge the thought.

“I’m glad we’re speaking,” said Kirk softly.

“Me too,” said Bones.

They looked at each other.

In a split second, something clicked in Bones’s mind. The other night—the tension leaving him—Kirk’s body, muscular and gentle, moving against his.

Bones opened his mouth.

“What?” said Kirk.

“You drive me mad,” said Bones, and kissed him.

It was a hard kiss. Kirk found himself pressed deep into the bed, Bones having straddled him. Oh, thought Kirk, this was very, very nice. Bones’s tongue parted his lips and covered his mouth. He bit Bones’s tongue in reply and Bones actually moaned and pressed him down harder.

Bones pulled back suddenly. Kirk realized that one of Bones’s hands had both of Kirk’s wrists above his head. The other hand was holding Kirk’s cheek, a thumb running softly beneath his eye.

“I don’t like you,” said Bones gruffly. “I just like kissin’ you.”

“Fine by me,” said Kirk, and strained upwards, trying to reach Bones’s lips.

“Now wait a sec. Don’t you think we should set some ground rules?”

“Right now? You’re on top of me. I’m not really interested in rules.”

“You’re such a slut,” said Bones almost admiringly. “No sex, okay? By which I mean, no sexual contact.”

“Okay, anything, just get your head back down here.”

“Hm,” said Bones, stroking his chin with his free hand. “Could it be that James Kirk doesn’t like to be kept waitin’?”

Kirk struggled against him. Bones found this extremely sexy.

“I’ll take my own sweet time,” Bones whispered into Kirk’s ear. He bit Kirk’s earlobe. Kirk gasped as Bones began to work his way down Kirk’s neck. Kirk struggled a bit more, but this only made Bones go slower. It was driving Kirk insane. He wanted Bones’s mouth on his, right now.

But no, Bones was taking off Kirk’s shirt. He tried to grab Bones’s face, but Bones held him down again, trailing his tongue across Kirk’s shivering chest as Kirk panted.

“Fuck, please,” whispered Kirk, eyes tight shut.

“What’s that?” Bones’s voice was heavy and hot in his ear.

“Please, Bones. Kiss me. Please.”

“Mmm. I like you askin’.”

“You—sadist! God, I need your mouth. Give it to me.”

“Tellin’ isn’t askin’.”

“Agh! Dammit, Bones, please, oh God please—”

Bones silenced him. They moved luxuriously against each other, each devouring the other’s mouth. Kirk sucked on Bones’s lips; Bones slipped his tongue over Kirk’s teeth. Kirk kept struggling, kept pleading whenever Bones would come up for air. 

Finally Bones rolled off of Kirk, wiping his mouth. He was trembling from the effort of holding Kirk down for so long.

Kirk rolled over and stared at him, totally limp.

“Fwah,” he exhaled.

“Yup,” agreed Bones, breathing deeply.

They lay there for a while.

Then Bones leaned over and kissed Kirk lightly. “Thanks,” he said, voice rough.

“Oh, anytime,” said Kirk, still flushed. “You uh, you take out that sexual tension whenever you need. I’m right here. I’m definitely at your service. Are you sure you don’t want to have sex?”

“Positive,” said Bones, who had gotten up to get some water. “It’d end badly.”

“Why do you say that?”

Bones shrugged. “Just would.” He handed Kirk his water. “I can get you some more if you need it.”

“No, thanks,” said Kirk, taking a sip. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Did you and Jocelyn—did you two have sex?”

Bones stared at him.

“Why would you ask that?” he said slowly.

Kirk didn’t know how to reply. “Uh, well, I was just wondering, I didn’t think—” 

“Of course we were havin’ sex,” said Bones. “Are you that idiotic?”

“Oh,” said Kirk, relieved. “Okay.”

“What, did you think we weren’t?”

“Well, yeah, a little,” said Kirk defensively. “I mean, you were such a germaphobe when you started dating her.”

“Jim, she had breasts and a vagina and was willin’ to use ‘em. I got over germs pretty damn quickly.”

Kirk huffed. “I didn’t know, okay?”

“Okay,” said Bones, grinning. “Want to play cards ‘till Spock gets back?”

Kirk sat up and pulled on his shirt. “Sure.”

Bones won every game.

x


	7. Chapter Seven: The Way to Eden

Sulu and Chekov were talking about math.

They were sprawled out on the single hotel bed with their homework before them. They had nearly finished, but had been sidetracked by a conversation about the Seven Bridges of Königsberg. Chekov was happy to move beyond the math and tell Sulu all about Königsberg, which was now Kaliningrad. Evidently he had family there. Sulu grinned; Chekov’s postulation that Russians established all of mathematics was absolutely adorable.

Chekov enjoyed talking to Sulu. He was a nice boy, very interested in him, very helpful. He noticed that Sulu was always looking out for him, although he objected to what Sulu thought of Kirk—Kirk was really a very sweet boy. And very beautiful. He did not know why Kirk was not interested in him. He knew Kirk could not be heterosexual—he had already heard rumors about Kirk and Bones. He wondered if he was doing something wrong. Maybe Kirk preferred a more subtle touch. Then again, Chekov had never been able to tell when people liked him. He had known people who he thought he was friends with, but they had turned out to only tolerate him so that they could copy his homework. And there had been people who seemed to hate him and then asked him out. He knew that he was not a very good judge of personalities.

But Sulu he was sure about. Sulu was a loyal friend, kind and sweet, always on hand. They had already played a couple of games of 3-D chess at Chekov’s house. Chekov knew Sulu was very intelligent, and a brilliant pilot—he was already teaching classes at the local airport. But Sulu had a hard time thinking in two dimensions, which was why he was not the pilot of the Enterprise. 

They talked for hours. Sulu forgot about his crush; he simply spoke and listened, thought and replied. They had changed into pajamas earlier. Now, they were curled up on the bed, whispering conspiratorially about secrets and past lives. Chekov had the sweetest laugh, even though it was slightly sardonic. There was something very sincere about it, but also very self-aware. Chekov seemed quite self-aware, now that Sulu thought about it. He was constantly commenting on his own mistakes or opinions, not in a selfish way, but as if he were being apologetic. Chekov noticed how confident Sulu was, and how much energy he had, but at the same time, how laid-back he seemed; as if motion could spring from him in one controlled movement, smooth and assured. He always seemed to know just what to do or say; he never hesitated with his words or misspoke. 

They got sleepy. Their voices slowed. Chekov instinctively moved towards Sulu, towards heat. Sulu drew the blankets up over them, hugging Chekov close, his nose buried in the younger man’s hair. Chekov nuzzled Sulu’s collarbone with his forehead, his hand grasping the front of Sulu’s shirt. They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, and their long dreams continued the conversation.

x

In Uhura and Chapel’s room, the party had just begun.

Scotty had invited Kirk and Bones over. (Everyone felt it was a good idea to leave Sulu and Chekov to it, whatever it was.) Spock had been included in the invite, but he was more interested in homework than social interaction, which surprised nobody. Kirk and Bones promised not to stay for long, but minutes turned into hours, the time flowing by on Scotty’s stash of illegal scotch. Soon they were playing Spin the Bottle with Chapel’s communicator. Everybody got a taste of everybody else, Kirk particularly relishing the time he spent with Uhura’s tongue in his mouth. (“This the type of team bonden—bunding—stuff we should do to start every meeting,” he hiccupped to Bones at one point.) None of them got too drunk, but words were slurred and laughter was contagious. Scotty and Chapel had more of a tolerance for alcohol than the rest of them, so it was Chapel who maneuvered Kirk and Bones back to their room while Scotty tucked a tipsy Uhura into her bed. 

Chapel, Kirk, and Bones whispered “SSH” at each other for a while outside Kirk’s door while Kirk fumbled for his room chip. Bones couldn’t help but kiss Chapel goodnight, but Kirk spoiled it by doing the same. Bones slapped him, or tried to, but missed and nearly fell over. In between giggles and sushes Chapel got them inside their room.

Spock looked up, having heard the commotion outside. He pushed his glasses up and leaned over to see Kirk trip magnificently over Bones’s foot. Bones found this hilarious and laughed for about five minutes. Kirk seemed to be fascinated by the floor.

“Carpet,” he muttered, poking the stuff with an unsteady forefinger. “Weird and fuzzy. Who came up with it. Dunno.”

Spock sighed and moved his study material off of the coffee table. Glancing back over at Bones, who was still giggling, he decided to go ahead and make up the pull-out couch.

“Gotta bed,” said Bones, grabbing his toothbrush and pj’s out of his bag and swaying into the bathroom. Kirk hauled himself off the floor and watched Spock turn down the sheets on the bed. 

“You sleeping now, Spock?” he asked.

“Yes, I thought I should rest for a healthy amount of time before the race tomorrow,” said Spock. He was already wearing pajamas. “Do you planning on sleeping soon?”

“Oh yes, very soon, just waiting for Bones to get out of there. Gotta brush my teeth. And wash my face. Can go ahead and change, I guess.”

And he pulled off his shirt.

Spock felt his whole body flush green. He looked away, searching for somewhere to stare at. There was the noise of a zipper. Kirk had just taken off his pants.

Spock couldn’t help it. He looked.

Kirk was stepping into his pajama bottoms. He was wearing long boxers of an oddly solemn dark blue. There was a large bruise high on his left pectoral and a smaller one on his collarbone. Spock felt his breath catch—what had happened to him? 

Kirk glanced up to see Spock staring. He grinned. “Like what you see?” he said, his voice rich with drink.

Spock looked away with some difficulty. “I fail to understand your query.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Kirk, voice muffled as he pulled a thin white t-shirt over his head. Bones banged out of the bathroom, saw that his bed was made up, dropped his toothbrush in his bag and collapsed on the couch. He was snoring lightly in seconds.

“Attractive,” joked Kirk. Spock ignored him.

Kirk felt better after he splashed water on his face. The world seemed slightly clearer. The sharp feel of the toothbrush bristles against his gums revived him. 

Spock settled himself nervously in the third of the bed furthest from the bathroom. He tucked the sheets around himself and turned his back to the inside of the bed. He didn’t know what to do, what he wanted. He liked Uhura. He didn’t like Kirk. He didn’t like this alcohol-soaked barbarian who could show him up in differential calculus and lived to torment him.

The bathroom door closed. He heard soft footsteps, felt the weight of another body settle into the bed.

“Lights,” said Kirk. The room went dark.

Spock realized how loud his breathing was. He tried to remain absolutely still. Kirk thrashed around a bit and finally seemed to find a comfortable spot.

“Hey, Spock,” said Kirk quietly. “You ever gotten drunk?”

“I do not drink,” Spock replied shortly.

“You should, some time,” said Kirk. “It makes you feel—warm, and light.”

“My species has a high specific body temperature. I am already quite warm.”

Kirk laughed. “Do you not drink, or do Vulcans not drink?”

“Both,” said Spock. “We ferment port only to sell off-planet. We have no tolerance for the stuff.”

“Fascinating,” said Kirk quietly. Spock turned in bed to glare at him. The light through the window was dim, but he could clearly see the sparkle of Kirk’s eye.

“Do not mock me,” said Spock, his voice cold. 

“I would not dare,” said Kirk solemnly. “You mock yourself well enough.”

“Excuse me, James?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Kirk. “You just seem like a caricature most of the time. You’re trying too hard to be Vulcan. It’s obvious that you’re just a human pretending to be a Vulcan.”

Kirk had been curious about Spock’s emotions ever since Amanda had mentioned that Spock had punched a hole in his wall the day Kirk had antagonized him at school. He waited for Spock to answer, wondering what he was going to say.

But Spock was not going to fall for that.

“My nationality is none of your concern.” There was hurt in his voice. “I will be what I am, not what I seem to be to ignorant observers.”

Suddenly Kirk felt bad. He remembered what Bones and Uhura had said about being nicer to Spock. He reached across the bed and put a hand on Spock’s shoulder.

To his surprise, Spock grasped his wrist tightly. He tried to pull away, but Spock would not let go.

“I’m sorry,” Kirk said.

Spock shook his head. “It is nothing. I am not offended.”

“I am sorry,” insisted Kirk, scooting. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

Spock, who had been monitoring his own physical arousal, raised an eyebrow, but Kirk could not see that. 

“Can I ask you something else?” said Kirk. 

“What?”

“Can I have my hand back?”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. Forgive me.”

Spock let go of Kirk’s wrist. They were quiet.

There was something about hotels. The transient feeling you got from doing something so intimate—sleeping—in a room meant for other people. Or the glare of unnatural light through the curtains, so unlike the light at home. Maybe the high comfort of the bedding, the way the strange pillows engulfed you. The unfamiliar sweep of cool air. The room felt like change, like a neutral place to start over after a failure, or to regroup when you were tired. 

“One more question,” said Kirk quickly, before he could change his mind. He had no idea what had come over him. “Have you ever kissed anybody?”

For a while, Spock did not reply.

“Yes,” he said, his voice cracking. “Yes I have, James.”

It was the James that did it.

“Spock,” Kirk whispered, not sure why he was saying it, but knowing what he said was true. “I want you.”

Spock’s breath caught. Blindly he moved towards the center of the bed, feeling the sheets slide over him like water. Kirk’s hands grasped his, his feet kicked Kirk’s feet, they were against each other, pressing, Spock’s nose colliding with Kirk’s chin, readjusting—kissing.

Oh, god, the taste of him, Spock thought. Old alcohol and mint and Kirk. He ran his hot hands over Kirk’s cooler body, feeling the heft of his muscles, the give in his side, the small hairs covering his back under his shirt, the taper of his spine. Kirk was unbuttoning Spock’s shirt, trailing kisses down his chest. Spock tried not to cry out.

The world shuddered and spun and melted and Spock jerked involuntarily. Beside him, Kirk made a small, sleepy noise, huffed, and pulled more of the sheets over to his side.

Spock sat up. Kirk was not kissing him. Kirk was fast asleep on his side of the bed, his arms wrapped around a pillow, snoring gently. That—that must have been a dream, thought Spock frantically. When had he fallen asleep? Had they talked at all? He couldn’t remember. But—was it a dream? He thought he still tasted Kirk in his mouth. No, that was just—that had to just be part of the illusion. It had been a dream. All of it had been a dream.

He fell back against the pillows, feeling close to tears. It had been so vivid. The wrinkles in Kirk’s lips, the texture of his tongue, the taste of him—they were all so vivid. They were all so vivid. They were all so sharp in his mind, but they were fading, because Spock was falling asleep again, spiraling down into deeper dreams.

x

Spock got up when his alarm went off. By the time he was finished showering, Kirk and Bones were awake and grumbling about their headaches. Spock pushed the memory of his dream into the back of his mind and compelled his roommates to get ready faster. 

Kirk figured that the alcohol had impaired his memory. There was no way he had made out with Spock last night, it must have been a dream closely tied to his conscious mind. He made no mention of it to Spock; why should he? Spock wasn’t monitoring his subconscious.

In truth, their dream was not a dream. They had kissed, they had explored each other, and they had enjoyed each other, but somehow what had come out had gone back in, had returned to be locked up in tight boxes deep inside their hearts, deepest of all inside Kirk’s, who thought that the dream was just a strange trip of his mind, and even when he thought about it, really didn’t find Spock attractive at all.

x


	8. Chapter Eight: The Corbomite Maneuver

Let us set the scene. 

At the University of California at Riverside, there is a racetrack fifteen miles long. It winds in and out of thin forest and academic buildings. The track itself is closely-cropped grass, cut low by sheep and the occasional mower. There is no grandstand, no announcer’s booth. Sports these days run without commentary, and the fans are trusted not to wander onto the track. Well, not trusted entirely—an invisible force field surrounds the course, with stakes spray-painted white to mark its boundaries.

This is the first of six races to be run in the California High School Hovercraft Competition. One hundred and six schools across the state have entered and their representatives are here, all of them and their clubs, fifteen hundred students and teachers, divided into little roped off sections of frantic people surrounding shining hovercars.

But the Enterprise High School Hoverclub is not frantic.

There wasn’t much left to be done to the Enterprise. Scotty and Spock went over its systems once more before Spock zipped up his flight jacket and pulled down his helmet and goggles. The Enterprise had been painted at last. Its dull gray hull didn’t stand out, unlike the flashy colors around them. It could slip unnoticed through crowds of other hovercars, seeming like nothing special. But it was one of the smallest, most compact cars there; its cushion was tiny and its thrusters were sleek and obviously well designed. 

Kirk was in the pilot’s seat, re-checking the controls. Spock leaned in next to him, trying not to be aware of their proximity.

“Are all systems operational?”

“Checks out great.” Kirk hauled himself out of the cockpit, brushing against Spock’s chest as his feet landed on the ground. “She’s all yours.”

“Thank you,” said Spock, thankful that his helmet covered his green-tinged ears.

The race official’s voice sounded over the PA system. “Would the A through G schools please make their way towards the starting line, pilots in hovers, sponsors leading and members following.”

Spock settled down into the cockpit. The controls were simple buttons, wheels, and switches. Scotty was used to putting together a tactile surface. While some of the nicer hovercars had touch screens, the Enterprise had a hands-on interface.

Spock depressed the three buttons that would start the hovercar. It purred to life, its thrusters burning bright blue. The cushion inflated and the Enterprise rose off of the ground.

Scotty beamed like a proud father. Bones slapped him on the back. Pike moved to the nose of the Enterprise and started towards the racecourse.

The club members at the back made sure to keep well away from the flaming tailpipes. Scotty was tapping at a PADD with a sensor on the back of it.

“What’s that?” said Bones.

“A display ah didnae have time t’ add,” said Scotty. “It shows handlin’ power. Ah forgot about it when ah firs’ installed th’ screens, and then ah would have had t’ rewire everythin’ t’ put it in. So we’ll be keepin’ up with Spock by communicator.” He nodded to the headset on Uhura’s ear.

“This sounds awfully like foreshadowing,” said Kirk, leaning over. “You sure the communicator’ll work on the track?”

“Positive. Ah’ve hooked into the UC Riverside system. We’re allowed t’ in th’ racin’ rules. Lots o’ teams keep all their displays off-car so they can lighten th’ load, but that puts more pressure on th’ team. Ah figure Spock’s more’n up t’ th’ task of keepin’ an eye on everythin’.”

Chapel spotted Ayel, the VP of the Pride High team, walking their way. He was carrying a box towards the race central cortex where the feeds were streamed and stats were kept on the cars. She tapped Sulu on the shoulder and pointed Ayel out to him.

“Where do you think he’s going?”

“Dunno. Surely they’re not going to try to cheat again.”

“You’d hope not. They can’t always expect to win on deviousness alone.”

At the starting line, Spock maneuvered the Enterprise into position. Everybody shook his hand as they left for the edge of the track, where they would watch the race on their viewscreens. Uhura leaned down and kissed his cheek when she wished him luck. Spock’s ears stayed bright green.

“Testing,” she said, when they had reached the viewing area. Each school had a special screen set up. They were at the highest land near the track. They could see some of the race, if they craned their necks, but half of the track was hidden behind trees.

“Enterprise here. Communication is check.”

The hovercars had lined up in alphabetical order by school. Ten crafts would begin the race every ten seconds, giving the cars at the back a total of one hundred and twenty seconds of stagger. The Enterprise was leaving in the third group. The Narada, Pride’s ship, was leaving in the seventh.

In the cockpit, Spock wrapped his hands around the wheel. He checked the four viewscreens—left, right, back, top—and glanced out the front window. Fuel connected. Hydrogen ready to flood the engine as soon as his group was given the go.

“Check,” he said into his mike. 

“Acknowledged,” said the race official on the other end. After about thirty seconds, the official requested check from three more vehicles. One had to drop out; something had happened to its thrusters. Spock switched over to the private channel. “Enterprise to base. Check completed.”

“Acknowledged,” Uhura replied. “Stand by for handling reading. Given every two minutes. Reading positive; full power.”

“Received.”

One hundred and five cars, burning hot. Spock’s fingers twitched on the wheel. He was steel. He was ready.

“Group one in three. Two. One.”

Roars as the first ten cars took off. Their dust blasted across the windows of the hovers behind them.

“Group two in three. Two. One.”

The cars directly in front of the Enterprise sped onto the track.

“Group three in three. Two. One.”

Spock was slammed back in his seat as he pressed the accelerator, reaching four hundred miles per hour within seconds. He moved immediately to the front of his group. The first part of the track was relatively smooth; he tried not to maneuver in order to keep up his speed. He approached the back of the second pack slowly, thinking. As long as he stayed ahead in his group, he was golden. Fifty ships would qualify for the next round, knocking out a little more than half the field. He decided not to risk passing the second group unless something unexpected occurred.

Which it did.

One of the hovercrafts behind Spock, the Constellation, put on a burst of speed, rocketing past Spock. Spock could see no logical reason why the pilot had done this; the Constellation had been second in the group, in a steady thirtieth place. He twitched the controls a few meters to the left to make some room between the Enterprise and the Constellation. But the pilot of the Constellation seemed to have other ideas. He closed on the Enterprise.

Spock applied the brake, dropping behind the Constellation. He was still ahead of the rest of his group. He sped up, now passing the rogue ship, and pushed his engines until he was at the back of the second group again. The Constellation was following him closely. Worried that the pilot might attempt sabotage, Spock nudged his way into the second group.

They were coming to the hilly area of the course. 

“Base to Enterprise. Handling conditions normal.”

“Received,” said Spock. He couldn’t believe the race had been going for two minutes. The final group had left the track only a minute ago.

One of his screens was hooked to the race central cortex. It showed him his exact position. Currently he was in tenth place. The Narada, Pride High’s entry according to the readout, was in fifth, which meant that it had probably passed at least two groups already, and was close behind him. He wove through the second group, keeping a safe distance from the other ships. The ground was beginning to get uneven; the hills were increasing in size. He had left the erratic Constellation behind and was near the front of the second group. 

The Narada moved to fourth, then third. Spock wished they were provided a map instead of numbers. He didn’t know where the Narada was, only that it was getting closer.

He pushed the accelerator, leaping to five hundred miles per hour. He was in front of the second group.

The first group was more spread out. They were not hemmed in. The leader of the first group was the Lexington, a car built along the same smooth lines as the Enterprise. The Lexington was also in first place by virtue of its incredible head start. The ship was a cool gold color with chunky thrusters that spoke of good speed but bad maneuverability.

“Base to Enterprise. Handling con—”

There was a sharp static sound. Spock flinched and reached for his ear, but the sound retreated, leaving total radio silence.

“Enterprise to base. Enterprise to base,” Spock said, but Uhura did not reply.

“What the hell just happened?” cried Kirk back at the viewing area. All around them, other teams were tapping their headsets and looking worried. Uhura pulled her earpiece out and popped the back off. 

“The connections are solid,” she said quickly. “Nothing wrong here.”

“Th’ system must be down,” said Scotty. He looked down at the display he was holding. “Our screens are still working—they’re set through our own satellites, not through th’ central cortex.”

The PA system announced an unexpected communications failure and requested patience. The teams with their displays at their base rather than in their car looked worried.

The first casualties occurred in the fifth group. One car, unsure of how fast it was going, tried to brake when another car swerved in front of it. Her engine exploded when the quickly-applied brakes caused the pressure in the engine to triple. The driver was ejected immediately and her vehicle slammed into three more vehicles behind her, ejecting their drivers. Twelve more vehicles sustained damage and seven more were disabled before the rubble was left in the dust.

Spock watched as eleven numbers went gray, then invisible. Now there were only ninety-four cars in the race. 

Around him, the drivers without displays became desperate. The groups intermixed; worried drivers unsure of their position in the race sped up and danced between the other cars. It took all of Spock’s skill to stay out of the way of the frantically weaving hovercars. Four more collisions occurred, taking out nine more cars. They had passed through the hills and were on another straight area of the track. The cars evened out, calming down even though communications had not been restored. Now that the drivers could see all of the other cars, they had a rough idea of where they were.

Spock had dropped to thirty-second, which he was not entirely satisfied with; his goal had been to stay above twentieth place. He figured that the calm would last until they came to the next part of the course, which was composed of sharp angles and turns. He sped up again, pushing the engines, advancing to fifteenth. The Narada was ahead of him, having passed the Enterprise in the logjam back in the hills, in third, battling for first and second with the Lexington and the Constellation, whose pilot seemed to have regained his senses and advanced safely to the head of the pack.

This was the first time Spock had set eyes on the Narada. It was completely unlike the other crafts. It had a single huge thruster at its back and was cylindrical, painted a brittle, gleaming black. The structure looked like many straight, sharp tentacles had been hewn from obsidian and attached to an invisible interior pod. Spock went cold at the sight of it. The craft was built to be menacing.

He stayed well back from the frontrunners, maintaining a position in the teens. All of his displays read systems normal. He assumed his handling was still fine; the Enterprise turned well enough when she needed to. His fingers detected a slight tremble whenever he had to jerk the craft out of the way of collision, but he assumed that it was just the strain of the race.

The display in Scotty’s hands told differently. A fuel line to the handling had burst during one of Spock’s close calls back in the hills. The handling was fine for now, but the fluid was leaking: Spock’s ability to steer the Enterprise might not last the race. 

“We need to effect repair to the communications system,” Kirk insisted to Pike. “The race officials just aren’t getting it done fast enough. We have to let Spock know about the handling.”

“The officials aren’t going to let you into the cortex,” said Pike, frowning. “But you may try, if you think it’ll help.”

“I’m sure it will,” said Kirk. He looked around. “I’ll need everybody for this. No, wait—who’s going to monitor the viewscreen?”

Pike raised an eyebrow at him. “I think I’m more than capable of watching a race,” he said dryly. “I’ll be in contact.” He removed his communicator from his pocket. “Good luck.”

Kirk led the Hoverclub out of the viewing area and down to the tunnel underneath the racetrack. The race central cortex was located on the interior of the track. There were guards stationed at the entrance of the tunnel.

Kirk had anticipated this. “Go,” he said to Chapel and Sulu. They rounded a corner towards the guards, chatting animatedly. The guards snapped to attention.

“No unauthorized entry,” said one of them sternly.

“Well that’s not what we came for,” said Sulu, fluttering his eyelashes at the guard, who relaxed a little. “The repair team from the main campus can’t get past the main entrance. Those students are mobbing.”

“Are they?” said the guard, looking concerned. She nodded to her fellow. “Let’s check it out. Call backup.” They set off towards the main entrance.

“That was pathetic,” muttered Kirk. “No wonder Nero and his gang could get in here and sabotage the race.”

“We don’t know it was Nero,” Uhura reminded him as they started down the tunnel.

“Yes, but let’s go out on a limb, shall we? Scotty, how’s she look?”

“Not bad,” Scotty admitted, glancing up from the display. “Thank God th’ last bit o’ track is straight an’ narrow. He might not be able t’ steer by then.”

They emerged into a small, empty lobby. They heard voices from a corridor off to the side. Kirk motioned everyone into a corner and slid silently over to the corridor entrance.

“—completely sealed off,” somebody was saying. “A self-replicating force field, it looks like. We won’t be able to get communications back before the end of the race.”

Kirk flipped open his communicator. “Kirk to Scotty,” he whispered. “Isn’t there a trick to getting rid of self-replicating force fields?”

“Aye, take away their oxygen,” said Scotty. “Starfleet’s stopped using them now that they can be broken.”

“Excellent,” murmured Kirk. “These engineers won’t listen to a couple of students, though. Looks like we need another distraction.”

x

On the racecourse, the hovercars had reached the maze. Spock spun hard out of a particularly sharp turn, nearly colliding with another hover. The Enterprise had not turned as well as he had expected, and the trembling in the steering wheel increased.

“Enterprise to base,” he repeated once more into his headset, the strain beginning to show in his voice.

Ahead of him, the Narada swooped in front of a large orange hover, causing the driver to swerve to avoid it. Spock slammed the Enterprise out of the way of collision, bumping into another hover. No damage was done to either car, but the orange hover spun out to the left. It reduced five cars to ruins.

Spock gritted his teeth. The trembling had increased when he had been forced to swerve. It was shaking him to the bone.

x

“Pike to Kirk,” Kirk heard on his communicator.

“Kirk here.”

“They’re down to eighty cars. The Narada is vicious, she keeps swerving and causing collisions. Spock’s holding on, but barely; his steering has become erratic. He’s dropped to twentieth.”

“His readout is pretty bad,” said Kirk, glancing at the display Scotty was holding. “The handling fluid is half gone. He’s got to stop making sharp turns.”

“Surely he knows by now.”

“Maybe, but at this point he won’t finish the race with steering power. Scotty says there’s something we can get him to do if we can get communications back up, though, something he’s been working on.”

“What is it?”

“The Corbo—” Kirk went quiet.

“Pike to Kirk. Pike to Kirk. I’ve lost contact. Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, sir, there was an… incident. I’ll be right back. Kirk out.”

Pike snapped his communicator shut. What were they up to? At first, he had doubted that a bunch of high school kids could solve whatever it was that Nero had done. But he had to remind himself that they were exceptional high school kids.

x

“Nice work,” said Kirk, surveying the empty corridor. “It’s good not to have to knock people out.”

“They really should learn to be more careful,” said Chapel, brushing her hands together. “Gas leak my ass. How unrealistic is that threat these days anyway? They won’t be able to get out of that supply closet for at least another forty minutes.”

“We’ll let them out when we get communications back up. Scotty? What’s your plan?”

“I’m already settin’ it up, Jim,” said Scotty. His hands were wrapped around a thin blue beam of light that he was waving over the entrance to the room that housed the race central cortex. “The force field just about fills this room. We’ll have t’ turn off th’ air supply. Sulu—”

“I got it,” said Sulu, dashing off to a control panel on a nearby wall. “Say when.”

Scotty sat the beam of light on the floor and pulled at its ends until it had gone all the way across the entrance. He flicked the beam and it unfurled, rising up to seal the entryway.

“Go,” said Scotty.

Sulu snapped apart two cords. “System override,” he reported. “Vacuum in three—two—one—”

Nothing changed beyond the screen of light. 

“That should do it,” said Scotty after a few seconds. “Effect repair.”

Sulu hooked the cords back together. Scotty collapsed the light screen. Air rushed into the room. Scotty reached forward into empty space. The force field was gone.

“Excellent,” said Kirk. “What next?”

“Now for th’ actual repair work,” said Scotty. “It shouldnae be too hard. Nyota, you know more about communications systems than meself.”

“I’m right there,” said Uhura, moving forwards. She knelt before the race central cortex, a glowing red pillar of hard drives and satellite uplinks. One portion of the pillar looked like it had been set on fire.

“I’ll need a replacement catalyzer,” she said, peering closely at the burned area. “And the primary transmitter has been half-melted. It’d be nice if they had an extra…”

Bones, Chapel, and Sulu were searching through compartments set into the walls. “This what you’re lookin’ for?” said Bones, holding up a long, flat gray panel with wires spewing out of its back.

“Perfect,” said Uhura, taking it from him. “Christine, get me that toolkit. Jim, some eight point three wires. No, the blue ones.”

Sulu found another primary transmitter. Chekov and Scotty attempted to install the thing, but they kept messing up the connections. Uhura snapped at them to quit; she was about to finish the catalyzer and would be there in a second. Scotty worked on general damage repair and instructed Kirk and Chekov to make sure the cortex would be able to sustain broadcast. They opened up a panel in the floor and poked around at the power supply, which looked fine. Uhura told Scotty to finish hooking up the catalyzer and moved to the transmitter, a rounded, fragile looking disc. Everyone watched anxiously as Uhura glided ten tiny wires into the correct nodes, shut the panel, and looked up.

“Power,” she said to the pillar. The blackened parts glowed red once more. She pushed a few buttons on the control panel and heard her earpiece spark to life.

“Go,” she mouthed, signaling with two fingers towards the entrance. “Base to Enterprise, emergency,” she said into the earpiece. “Handling fluid half depleted, repeat, handling fluid half depleted. Avoid unnecessary maneuvering. Base to Enterprise—”

“Enterprise here. Received.”

“Stand by for further instructions.” She followed the Hoverclub out of the cortex room. Chapel had disappeared to let the race officials out of their supply closet. Everybody else hovered inside the tunnel, waiting for her. She came sprinting silently out of the corridor, waving for them to go. Behind her, angry voices echoed off the walls.

At the tunnel entrance, the guards were still gone. “Instructions?” Uhura mouthed to Scotty.

“Wait,” said Scotty. “He needs t’ be in th’ clear. And ah haven’t finished th’ calculations yet.” He tapped his head. “They’re three-fourths done and th’ hardest is yet t’ come.”

By the time they got back to the viewing area, the other teams had figured out that communications were back up. The field was beginning to stabilize, although the chaos had taken out another eight cars. The distance between the crafts stretched. Spock maintained a shaky twenty-fourth place. But although the course was beginning to straighten out, Spock was having a harder and harder time steering. His handling fluid level had dropped to nearly zero.

“Base to Enterprise. Spock, all you have to do is get to the final straightaway,” said Uhura. “Then we have something you can do to regain acceleration. It’s called the Corbomite Maneuver.”

“Received. Nyota, I have not heard of this.”

“Monty came up with it a while back, when the fuel line blew. It should solve your acceleration problems. You have to be on the straightaway to execute.”

“I shall arrive at that section of the course momentarily,” said Spock, barely making it around a corner. “I am now in thirty-first position. This had better work.”

“It will,” said Uhura, shooting a glance at Scotty, who was doing frantic calculations with Chekov. Kirk leaned over their shoulders, totally focused.

“Thirty-ninth,” said Spock. “Fifteen seconds.”

“Got it,” said Chekov, holding a paper triumphantly.

“Wait!” cried Kirk. “This is wrong—eighty-seven degrees! Damnit, let me redo this problem—”

Scotty threw up his hands. “Ah cannae do th’ math that fast, Jim. You go ahead.”

“Now would be nice,” hissed Uhura.

“Fuck! Alpha point two,” Kirk muttered, scribbling out a figure. He paused and stared at the paper. “Give me the headset.”

“What?”

“I have to do this in my head. Give it to me.”

Uhura pulled the headset off and gave it to Kirk, who fitted it quickly around his skull.

“Kirk to Enterprise.”

“Spock here. What happened to Nyota?”

“Nothing. Thought I could explain better. You on the straightaway?”

There was a grunt on the other end. “I am now,” said Spock, sounding strained.

“Here’s what you do,” said Kirk. “You have to line her up exactly center on the trajectory, okay? I mean dead fucking center, not an arcsecond of a degree off. This is crucial.”

“Received.” Spock paused to align the craft. “Continue.”

“You got it?”

“James, I am now in forty-seventh position. I must place at or above fiftieth to qualify for the next round.”

“Okay, turn on the F57 and set the trajectory positive. Set the altimeter to eighty-eight degrees.”

“Achieved.”

“Prime the thrusters at four point eight.”

“Achieved.”

“Punch the following buttons with a delay of one second between each. Rocket two, rocket five, jammer, F32, and rocket one.”

A pause. “Achieved.”

Kirk held his breath. “What you’re going to do next is the final step. It’ll ignite the corbomite. Hold tight.”

“Continue.”

“Hit rocket three.”

There was a noise.

On the track, the Enterprise exploded forwards, flashing from fifty-eighth to sixth in five seconds. Within eight seconds, it was in second, diagonal to the Narada. They were less than a mile from the finish, just a quarter of a minute away.

“Okay, listen,” Spock heard Kirk say. “Here’s the deal. You can’t steer. You have to just go straight, no matter—”

The Narada swerved towards him. Spock reacted instinctively. He spun the wheel.

The Enterprise’s thrusters blew up.

The shrapnel peppered the Narada, battering its dark exterior. The Enterprise, its tail flaming, slowed dramatically. In the viewing area, they watched, horrified, as Spock dropped rapidly in the ranking.

Spock flipped switches quickly, utterly composed, coaxing impulse power out of the barely-alive engine. He was so close to the finish. He hit the accelerator. Smoke billowed out of the back end, confusing the crafts behind him. The Enterprise limped over the line—in forty-ninth place. The Narada, severely damaged by the blowup, achieved fiftieth.

Spock braked, coasting the Enterprise to a stop in her assigned space, out of the way of the vehicles still limping in. He sat in the slightly smoky cockpit for a second, breathing hard as he turned off the engines. There was yelling in his ear—in the viewing area, the crew of the Enterprise were cheering madly.

“We’ll be right down!” he heard Kirk shout.

Spock unsealed the hatch and pulled himself heavily out of the Enterprise. The grass was soft, he could tell even through his boots. He breathed deeply, removing his helmet.

The punch hit him squarely in the jaw.

x


	9. Chapter Nine: By Any Other Name

Spock stumbled backwards into the hull of the Enterprise. He heard his attacker move towards him, presumably for another hit, and kicked out, catching the attacker in the knee. There was a crunching sound and Romulan cursing.

“Get away!” he heard a voice shout. “He’s mine, Ayel.”

Spock turned to see Nero shoving his second-in-command, Ayel, aside. Ayel clutched his knee, limping off to join the other twenty or so Pride Romulans surrounding the Enterprise. The mangled Narada smoked nearby, its primary engine having been knocked out by the thruster explosion on the Enterprise.

Holding his jaw, Spock stared at Nero. He was not about to provoke the unpredictable Romulan into further action.

Nero was wearing a worn black leather flight jacket. His goggles had been pushed high over his unridged forehead. His clothing was grimy from engine grease and smoke, and covered in stained metal studs. By his expression, it looked as if he were trying to turn Spock to stone with only his mind. There was menace and hatred in every fold and crease of his muscular, intense body.

“You nearly ruined our chances of continuing in this competition,” hissed Nero, approaching Spock slowly. “That was deliberate sabotage on your part.”

“I assure you, it was not,” said Spock calmly, removing his headset and carefully pressing the emergency button on its side. “I was forced to execute a maneuver that required the full capacity of my craft. The turn I had to make when your hover swerved towards me caused my thrusters to overload. The fault is not mine, but neither is it yours. You could have no idea of the status of my engines.”

“Which makes the advantage yours,” Nero growled. His deep black eyes were focused on Spock’s face. “You will pay for this.” He signaled, three fingers towards Spock. Ayel, trembling on unsteady legs but still sneering, leveled a phaser at Spock, who took an automatic step backwards.

There was a blur and a crash. Kirk, who had run down from the viewing area, had thrown himself at Ayel from just inside the ring of Romulans. Ayel screamed as Kirk landed squarely on his knee, shattering the bone. Spock and Nero had started towards the two when a voice yelled, “Stop!”

Three race officials pushed through the gathering crowd in Kirk’s wake. One of them pointed a phaser at Kirk, who scrambled off of Ayel, hands in the air. The woman clearly in charge, judging by the racing authority sash around her shoulders, waved her hands, and the crowd backed up. Pike appeared, looking harried, with the rest of the Enterprise Hoverclub close behind him.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” said Kirk innocently.

“Citizen, what is your name?” asked the woman imperiously.

“James Tiberius Kirk,” said Kirk. Spock noted with shock that Kirk actually had a grin on his face.

“State your reason for attacking that boy,” the woman said.

“He was pointing a phaser at my friend,” said Kirk. “Much like the one now being pointed at me. I am a student, you know. I can’t do too much harm.”

The guard lowered her phaser, flustered.

“I see no phaser,” said the woman sternly, a hand on her hip. She was a slim, proud-looking blonde, dressed in a long black formal robe made of thin net material. The gold film decoration floating on her sleeves and waist did little to hide the large bulge of her stomach: she was very pregnant.

“Excuse me,” said Pike. “Are you Dr. Eleen? In charge of the hovercraft program at UCLA?”

“Yes,” she snapped, then hesitated, recognition in her eyes. “Christopher? What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you again, Julie.” There was something sharp in Pike’s voice. “I’m the Enterprise High sponsor. Jim Kirk is one of my students.”

“Jim Kirk has attacked another participant. I must take action—”

“Wait a second,” said Pike. “He did what? Jim, what did you do?”

“He was pointing a phaser at Spock,” said Kirk, pointing to Ayel. “I jumped him.”

“I can affirm,” said Spock. “That Romulan was indeed holding a phaser. He was directed to use it on me by this man, Mr. Nero.”

Nero raised an eyebrow. “Did I really? That’s strange, I don’t remember giving such an order.” He looked around at his Romulan crew members, the only witnesses besides Kirk and Spock. “Do any of you remember seeing Ayel with a phaser?”

They shook their heads.

“Unless you can produce the phaser, I suggest that Mr. Spock and Mr. … Kirk… are lying,” said Nero to Dr. Eleen.

Dr. Eleen motioned to her guards, who approached the Romulans. “We have probable cause to search all of you,” she warned when the Romulans looked as if they were going to resist.

But no phaser was produced. Ayel must have thrown it to somebody outside of the crowd, who had disappeared with it.

“I’m afraid that Mr. Kirk will have to be placed in our custody for the moment,” said Dr. Eleen. “Without proof that his peer was being threatened, he has committed assault.”

By this time, an ambulance had arrived for Ayel, who made the most of his leg, groaning and moaning as the EMT’s loaded him onto a stretcher. Even Nero looked a little irritated at his show.

“Mr. Nero, where is your sponsor?”

“Dr. Eleen, my club received special permission from our school principal and from the council governing this competition to form without a sponsor. I am in charge.”

Dr. Eleen raised an eyebrow. “Most unorthodox. I remember your request and am considering rescinding that permission. Come with me, all of you. Guards, escort Mr. Kirk to the audience chamber.”

The two hoverclubs followed Dr. Eleen to race central, the Enterprise High students trying not to look like they found the route familiar. Dr. Eleen showed them into a small auditorium near the cortex. Four distinguished looking professors sat at the front of the room. Dr. Eleen sat in the middle of them, lowering herself carefully into her chair, her hand on her stomach. Pike directed his students to one side of the auditorium, Nero sent his to the other.

Dr. Eleen began without preamble. “We can easily expel Enterprise High from the competition,” she said. “You will have to convince the panel that you should be allowed to remain in competition and that your team member is innocent of assault.”

“That is a simple task,” said Spock, standing to speak. He looked gallant, his flight jacket half open, a helmet tucked under his arm, his face streaked artfully with smoke. “Mr. Nero holds a grudge against Enterprise High, and especially against myself. Today, at the end of the race, I performed a dangerous and exact maneuver that allowed me to advance from below fiftieth to second place. Mr. Nero, in first, attempted to thwart my actions by swerving in front of me. I was forced to turn to avoid a collision, which blew up my engines, which damaged Mr. Nero’s craft, which incited his wrath.”

“The tape of the race will prove that,” added Pike. “We can also provide you with schematics of our hovercraft.”

“You’ll leave those on file. Let’s assume what you said is true,” said Dr. Eleen. “Since you’re a Vulcan, it is unlikely that you are lying.”

“In the interest of full disclosure, Doctor, I am half-Vulcan. My father is Sarek, son of Skon, Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. My mother is Amanda Grayson, a human.”

“You’re Sarek’s son? Very interesting. What are you, then, first in your class?”

Kirk looked like Christmas had come early. Spock’s ears twitched as he corrected her.

“I am second in my class, doctor.”

“Surprising, I thought you’d be first. I’m sure it’s all those extracurriculars you’re undoubtedly in. I consider you a trustworthy speaker, Spock. But your friend Mr. Kirk I’m not so sure about.”

“Doctor,” said Kirk, deciding to take advantage of his history, “I have recently moved to San Francisco from Riverside, Iowa with my mother, Winona Lawrence, the widow of George Kirk. He was my father.”

Spock blinked. He hadn’t known who Kirk’s father was. Fascinating.

“Very interesting,” said Dr. Eleen. “And you were on the USS Kelvin, weren’t you, Christopher?”

“Yes,” said Pike shortly. His voice was cold.

“And you,” said Dr. Eleen. “Nero. Your parents were Naeus and Aemilia, were they not?”

Kirk and Pike stiffened, and Spock actually looked surprised. Naeus and Aemilia were the husband and wife pair of Romulans who had led the rebellion against a Federation outpost nearly seventeen years ago. The Kelvin had been destroyed in the insurrection.

“I am their proud child,” said Nero quietly, his subdued voice full of passion.

All sorts of things were whipping through Kirk’s head. He hadn’t known that Naeus and Aemilia had a son, and if he had known, he certainly wouldn’t hate the boy. But here that son stood, sounding like he supported his parent’s actions. His father had given his life to take theirs.

“So,” said Dr. Eleen. “One could say you four have a bit of… history.”

Four? thought Kirk. Nero’s parents caused my father’s death, and Pike was on the Kelvin, who else—

“I was unaware of your parentage,” said Spock to Nero. “I am surprised at your actions.”

“I owe nothing to your family,” snarled Nero.

“I agree,” said Spock, his eyes cold. “We would want nothing from you.”

The only reason Nero didn’t try to kill Spock right there was because of the armed guards. Dr. Eleen, clearly sensing the tension in the room, asked if Nero had anything to contribute. He told his story—the Narada was a victim of the Enterprise’s vicious attack and Kirk had assaulted Ayel unprovoked. Dr. Eleen looked skeptical, but—

“Despite my reservations, I am forced to suspend James Kirk from participation in this competition until his actions can be proven to have been provoked,” said Dr. Eleen. “The council agrees.”

x

Kirk was still spluttering an hour later.

“… tell that stuck up white-haired bitch queen what she can do with her suspension…”

“Will you shut up, Jim?” Bones growled. “I think they can’t quite hear you back in San Francisco.”

“Yeah, well,” Kirk snapped, throwing his shoes into his bag with such force that the bag tumbled off the bed. “Fuck and damn!”

Spock opened his mouth to say something about cursing being illogical, caught Bones’s eye, and stayed quiet.

Kirk finally got all of his things into his bag. He turned to Spock, still looking angry.

“What were they talking about earlier? How do you know Nero?”

Spock paused. “The depth of my acquaintance with him was unknown to myself until today,” said Spock. “I did not realize that he was the same Romulan my father talked about. You see, when Naeus and Aemilia revolted, my father Sarek was on his way to Delta Vega, near Vulcan. His ship received a call for help from the USS Kelvin, which was being repaired at Calder II, the planet where the insurrection took place. The Kelvin was spaceworthy, but had only impulse power—”

“I know how it went,” said Kirk shortly. “I never heard anything about a Vulcan being involved in this, though.”

“My father was too late to attempt negotiations,” said Spock. “He arrived after the Kelvin had destroyed the Romulan encampment and dig site. He helped search for survivors, and found a baby Romulan in the rubble. He brought him to Romulus and gave him to a foster family.” Spock let out a long breath. “That baby was Nero. No human could have found him in the ruins, and only humans were searching before my father arrived. He was under a metric ton of concrete and concertina wire, and his cries were too faint for human ears. He owes my father his life. And he knows it.”

“That doesn’t seem like something you ignore,” said Kirk. “How did he end up on Earth? And why does he hate you so much, if your father saved his life?”

“I do not know,” said Spock. “But I hope to find out.”

x

Nearly everybody was on edge in the transport. Pike had become snappish after Sulu had asked him how he knew Dr. Eleen. Uhura was angry that she had gotten too drunk to put her Brilliant Plan to Get Into Spock’s Pants into action. Scotty was mourning the damage to the Enterprise. Kirk was brooding about the suspension. Spock was pondering Nero.

Sulu, Chekov, and Chapel were in excellent moods. They cooked up a plan to cheer the crew up. It involved Sulu’s house, sleeping bags, and large quantities of alcohol. They even invited Pike, knowing he wouldn’t think it was at all appropriate, but they felt the effort should be made, and were unsurprised when he declined.

Everybody thought it was a good idea, especially when the alcohol was mentioned (Spock was even mildly interested in that aspect of it). Kirk volunteered to go on a beer run, if that was needed. In so doing, he actually had a short conversation with Sulu, who, after last night, was feeling much nicer towards his rival, even if Chekov did still steal glances at Kirk from under those long eyelashes.

x

Scotty covered the Enterprise tenderly with a sheet. Her blackened hull saddened him. He couldn’t believe the thrusters he’d worked so long and hard on were gone. 

He put his hands on her hull. Her metal was cool. The studs under his skin burned their crease into his pads of his fingers. He lay across the ship, pressing his forehead to her. The scent of fire was deep. She would always smell like smoke and battle.

x

Chekov’s back hurt. He had lain curled up in Sulu’s arms all night and awoken happily. But as the day progressed, he found it harder and harder to straighten without flinching. 

In his room, he reached around himself, feeling the muscles in his side. He pressed down, his fingers pushing into the fiber, relieving the pain for a moment. But when his fingers lifted, the pain came straight back. The Tylenol he’d taken earlier had not helped.

But it was a small price to pay for the long warmth of encircling arms.

x

Uhura paced. She could feel the attraction in her bones. It was bad already. She lay in bed at night and clutched a pillow, tossing and turning, wishing to God she were not alone in her small room in the middle of the large universe. 

She needed him. It was the way her hair stood on end whenever he hovered near her. The pockmark on his jaw. The little spidery veins in his thin eyelids. The mist of his breath. The warmth of his touch.

She knew she should snap out of it, but somehow, she couldn’t. She had idealized Spock too much to realize fully how intense her feelings were. She breathed slowly, wondering what his lips felt like, imaging his heat.

x

Spock’s father was waiting for him. Sarek stood, greeting his son formally, as he always did. Amanda hovered in the kitchen, waiting for the rolls to finish. Dinner was set out almost entirely, but for the silverware and the last of the food.

Spock was not thinking of much as he opened the drawer. His hands closed around the cold metal, reminding him of the Enterprise, of his fingers on the steering wheel. Loosely he counted out three forks, three spoons, and three knives. Vulcans never touch their food, he thought. We even eat bread with a fork and knife.

Sarek inquired after the race. Spock told his parents all about it, in great detail. Amanda clucked over Kirk, mentioning that she’d thought he seemed impetuous, and that Winona had invited all of them over for dinner. Sarek raised an eyebrow at this but did not object. Spock tried not to think about what dinner at the Kirk residence would be like.

Afterwards, he hid a slice of bread under his sleeve and brought it back to his room wrapped in a napkin. He picked it up, feeling the delicate webbing of the dough compress under his fingers. He wrapped his hands around the bread and took a bite, eyes closed, enjoying the texture on his skin. But he only took one bite. He threw the rest of the bread away, sighing at himself. When he caught sight of a Vulcan dictionary on his shelf he thought of Uhura, suddenly and clearly, and imagined that she wouldn’t consider him strange for what he’d done with the bread. The thought made him feel much better.

x

Bones’s father was home. David McCoy had replicated a hasty dinner. 

“I’m so sorry,” he told his son. “Ian’ll be home soon, but I’ve just got to dash up to work. Evidently the backup generator’s gone out at the hospital.”

“It’s okay, father,” said Bones, scooping dry mashed potatoes into his mouth. “I’m goin’ to a thing tonight anyway, I’ll just eat some more there.”

“Okay, be healthy,” said David, kissing Bones on the forehead. “Tell me how the race went later!”

Bones smiled as David rushed out the door. His disordered father was the head electrical engineer at St. Berry Hospital a few miles away. 

When he finished with his meal, he unpacked his bag from last night, threw clothes into the washer, and packed it again. By the time he was ready to leave, his dad was home.

“Hey dad,” said Bones, coming down the stairs. “How was work?”

“Terrible,” growled Ian Kelley, Bones’s other parent. “Where’s David?”

“Work. The backup generator failed. And I’m leaving for a get-together.”

“Damn you both,” said Ian. Bones had gotten his bad temper from his dad. “Well, I guess I’ll be fine without the two of you. Hey, how was the race?”

“I’m sure you’ll be,” said Bones. “It went good enough. We advanced. I’ll tell you more later, okay?”

“Okay. Have fun without me.”

x

Chapel checked her hair in the mirror. Everybody told her that she looked like she was twenty-five, not seventeen. She suspected her high cheekbones were at fault, or the deep, serious set of her eyes. She didn’t like seeming older than she was, considering how much younger she felt. 

She had told her mother all about the race as soon as she got home. Chapel was an only child; her mother, Heather, was asexual and had produced Chapel from a sperm donor. The two were very close. 

Chapel had always wondered, guiltily, if there was something wrong with her mother, something that kept her from having a sexual relationship with any of her love interests. But Heather simply seemed disinterested. She rarely entered into relationships, and most of them passed quickly. Chapel decided, after a while, that some people were just not cut out for love. Sometimes she felt like she had inherited that tendency.

x

Sulu was alone in his huge house. His parents were gone, as usual, and would be for the remainder of the weekend. He didn’t remember why. He kept as little track of their movements as they did of his. 

He was in the zen garden at the back of the house, perched on a rock, rolling a joint. The tips of the paper curled, blackening, floating away when he lit it. 

This was what he liked. Calm. Control. A situation that was difficult, but one he could handle.

x

“Oh my God,” said the Hoverclub in unison.

They were watching Kirk stagger up Sulu’s sidewalk, barely able to walk under the weight and heft of the alcohol he was carrying. 

“It would be great if somebody could give me a hand,” Kirk said, sounding strained.

Everybody tumbled forwards, trying to help all at once. Kirk ended up carrying nothing at all. He sauntered into the house after everybody, whistling.

“This is incredible,” said Scotty, staring at the loot spread out on the kitchen table. “How’d you manage, Jim?”

Kirk shrugged modestly. “I’ve always had a keen interest in drinking.”

“Great variety,” said Chapel approvingly. “Absolut, Smirnoff, regular old beer, Kaluha, icewine, Romulan ale, and—is this Aldebaran whiskey?”

“It is… it is… green,” said Spock, leaning in to stare at the bottle, which was glowing slightly.

“Aye,” said Scotty, gazing fondly at the drink. “And it tastes like gold.”

“Let’s get down to business,” said Sulu, picking up the Absolut. “Everybody grab what you like. We’re playing Never Have I Ever.”

x

The eight of them sat in a circle, their drinks next to them. Almost everybody looked nervous.

“Okay, how this works,” said Sulu. “I say, ‘never have I ever… uh… broken a bone.’ And if you have broken a bone, then you take a drink. That’s the whole game.”

“This sounds very fun,” said Chekov, looking excited. “Can I go first?”

“Go right ahead,” said Sulu.

“Wait a moment, please,” said Spock. “What exactly is the goal of this game?”

“To win,” said Kirk at the same time Uhura said, “To lose.” They stared at each other.

“The more drinks you have to take, the more, I guess, experienced you are,” said Sulu. “Some people see that as winning. Others see it as losing.”

Spock eyed his icewine. “The goal, then, is drunkenness.”

“Most goals are,” said Kirk philosophically. Spock shot him a dark glance.

Chekov was impatient. “Can we begin?” he said. “I have a good one to start.”

“Please,” said Bones. “Let’s get started.”

“Never have I ever been to Los Angeles.”

Sure enough, everybody took a drink. Spock hesitated before his, and spluttered a little afterwards. Bones slapped him on the back unhelpfully.

“Good one,” said Scotty, “but borin’. We’re here to talk about deep, dark secrets. So, never have I ever stolen somethin’.”

Kirk, Chapel, and Sulu took drinks.

“A candy bar, when I was eight,” said Sulu.

“A hair clip, on accident, last week,” said Chapel.

“Five bottles of Cuervo Gold, a toolkit, two and a half yards of leather, a Corvette, a million terabyte card, a miniature schnauzer, a couple hundred apples over the course of my childhood, a box of condoms, an antique book…”

Everybody quickly agreed that Kirk didn’t have to list everything.

“Stealing isn’t too deep and dark,” said Chapel, next in line. “Here’s one—never have I ever seen somebody die.”

Spock was the only one who drank. Everybody stared at him.

“My father once killed a man,” said Spock. Jaws dropped. “I am sorry, I was attempting a joke. My grandfather died of old age.”

The circle laughed, relieved and a little uncomfortable.

“Never have I ever gotten a tattoo,” said Uhura.

Nobody drank. Spock was next.

“I have never—”

“Never have I ever,” corrected Kirk, waving his Aldebaran whiskey at Spock, who frowned, and continued.

“Never have I ever, then, had sexual intercourse.”

Uhura would have spit out her drink if she’d had any in her mouth. Once more, everybody was staring at Spock.

“You’re a virgin?” said Bones. “I didn’t know that was possible in the teenaged male.”

“You forget, Leonard, that I am half-Vulcan. Our physiology is different.”

“How different?” Uhura couldn’t help but ask.

“I should have phrased that better. Our sexual maturity differs, not our anatomy.” Only Spock could say those words in such clinical terms.

“I don’t understand how you can not have sex,” said Kirk. “It’s a hell of a lot like breathing.”

“Virginity is simply one state of being,” said Spock.

“Thank you, Inara,” said Kirk, rolling his eyes. “Has everybody taken a drink?” The circle nodded. “Great. So, never have I ever…”

Kirk stopped.

“Can’t think of anythin’?” said Bones grumpily.

“There’s got to be something,” said Kirk, pondering. “Um… no, I’ve done that… Oh! Never have—damn, there was that one time, with the handcuffs. Let’s see… Okay. Never have I ever been off planet.”

“Wow, really?” said Chapel. Everybody had taken a drink. “How’d you manage that?”

“Never has my family’s income ever topped nine hundred thousand credits a year,” said Kirk dryly.

Sulu, whose family made about ten million a year, which was upper middle class, couldn’t help but say, “But that’s under the poverty line.”

“Yep,” said Kirk, not looking at anybody.

Bones cleared his throat awkwardly and went next.

“Never have I ever gotten a piercin’.”

Uhura, Chapel, and Kirk drank.

“What the hell, Jim?” Bones demanded, peering at Kirk’s ears and not seeing any holes.

“It was a dare,” said Kirk, trying to hide behind his whiskey.

“What was it?”

“Muhrnr,” muttered Kirk.

“Excuse me?”

“My nipples,” said Kirk curtly. “And I got them removed pretty soon afterwards, okay?”

Everyone laughed. Kirk scowled, looking for a moment like Bones’s twin brother.

“Never have I ever been beaten up,” said Sulu.

Kirk, Bones, Chekov, and Spock took drinks. They were all reluctant to talk about who had beaten them up and why.

It was back to Chekov. Kirk was looking quite tipsy. Everybody else had been forced to take at least one drink.

“Never have I ewer been in love,” said Chekov.

Bones, Scotty, Sulu, and Uhura drank.

“Jocelyn,” said Bones shortly.

“I’d rather not say, t’ be honest,” said Scotty. Uhura and Sulu nodded vehemently in agreement with Scotty. Disappointment was evident on everybody else’s face.

“Never have I ever had sex with a stranger,” said Scotty.

“Can I just start drinking water?” Kirk asked, finishing his whiskey. 

“Of course not, ah’ll get you some more,” said Scotty, snatching Kirk’s glass and heading for the alcohol.

Chapel and Sulu also drank, blushing. They refused to explain the circumstances.

“Never have I ever sent somebody to the hospital,” said Chapel.

Kirk, Spock, and Uhura drank.

“What’d you two do?” demanded Sulu, ignoring Kirk. 

Uhura shrugged. “There was a guy who was being annoying. I broke his nose.”

“Spock?”

“In my childhood on Vulcan, I was not accepted because of my ancestry. Certain of my peers attempted to take advantage of my supposedly emotional state. I rebuffed them.”

“How badly were they hurt?” said Bones.

“Their convalescence was… extended,” said Spock shortly.

Uhura’s turn. “Never have I ever had sex in a car.”

“I hate all of you,” said Kirk solemnly, taking a drink. Scotty, grinning widely, also drank.

“Never have I ever cheated on a test,” said Spock.

“I’m going to get alcohol poisoning thanks to you,” Kirk growled.

“That is my profound wish, James.”

“Fine. Never have I ever been second in my class.”

Spock gasped indignantly. “Never have I ever been arrested.”

“Yeah, well, never ever have I ever nearly lost a hover race.”

“The fault was not mine, James. Never have I ever been afflicted with an STI.”

“Low blow, Spock,” snarled Kirk. They had moved beyond drinking, now. “Never have I ever punched a hole in my wall because I didn’t like getting shown up in school.”

Spock went silent. “How did you know about that?” he asked quietly.

“Your mom happened to mention it the other day at the supermarket,” said Kirk, an ugly look on his face. “I didn’t know I had quite so much impact on you, Spock. Good to know I can affect you so easily.”

“You have no authority over me,” said Spock, trying to pull himself together. “You have no impact on my life.”

“I really doubt that, Spock. From what I’ve seen, I could drive you batshit crazy in under a week.”

“Perhaps you already have, James!” cried Spock. “Do you have any idea how painful your presence has been for me?”

“Do you have any idea how little I care?” Kirk replied coldly.

At that point, Uhura’s fist hit Kirk’s jaw.

x

After being plyed with substantial amounts of alcohol, Kirk, Spock, and Uhura calmed down. Kirk and Spock had identical bruises blossoming on their jaws, now, and were still shooting glares at each other. Spock was distinctly unsteady on his feet despite only drinking a glass and a half of icewine. He was sitting on the other side of the circle from Kirk, now, next to Uhura, who had an arm around his shoulders protectively.

Kirk was starting to warm to Uhura. “You’re very strong,” he leered across the circle. “I bet you could handle me.”

“Not in a million years,” said Uhura, her voice like ice. She tossed back a shot of Jack Daniels. “Let’s keep playing this game.”

“I like you guys,” said Scotty, grinning around the circle. “You’re excitin’!”

x


	10. Chapter Ten: The Savage Curtain

“Never have I ever paid for sex,” said Sulu.

Kirk drank.

“Never have I ever cheated in a relationship,” said Chekov.

Kirk drank.

“Never have I ever taken hard drugs,” said Scotty.

Kirk drank. 

“Never have I ever slept with more than ten people in a week,” said Chapel.

Kirk drank. It was beginning to feel like all he did was drink.

“You are despicable,” Uhura growled at him.

Kirk shrugged. He didn’t care about much anymore.

“Never have I ever been in a threesome,” she said.

Kirk drank. So did Scotty, Uhura, Chekov, and Bones.

“Never have I ever kissed someone,” said Spock.

“Yes you have,” said Kirk without thinking.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “Indeed, James? And you would know better than I, I suppose? I have been kissed, but I have not initiated the kissing.”

“Uh,” said Kirk. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” He took a drink along with everybody else and tried to smile, genuinely not sure why he had said that. “Moving on. Never have I ever…” As usual, he took a moment to come up with something. “… gone streaking.”

Much to everybody’s surprise—everybody took a drink.

“Oh my god, you have?” said Chapel to Spock. “You know what that is?”

“I would prefer not to discuss the incident,” said Spock, attempting to look dignified. “Let us simply say that honor was at stake.”

“Whose honor?” asked Chekov.

“I would prefer not to discuss the incident.”

“How old were you?” demanded Scotty.

“I would prefer—”

“Never have I ever,” said Bones loudly, “had sex with a teacher.”

That distracted everybody.

Kirk drank. And so did Uhura.

“No,” she said, before anybody could get a syllable out. “I am not telling you.”

A slow smile was spreading across Scotty’s face.

“I will kill you,” she warned him. “You will die.”

“The cat’s out o’ th’ bag, lass,” said Scotty. 

“I swear to God —”

“’Twas Mr. Sinor,” said Scotty, positively beaming. Uhura hid her face in her hands.

“Your Vulcan professor?” cried Sulu.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Uhura, voice muffled.

“Oh, that is so not an option,” said Chapel. “When did this happen? Was it this year?”

“No,” muttered Uhura. “It was during the summer. I didn’t know he was a teacher. God, the first day of class was so awkward.”

“How did you manage?” asked Sulu. “He’s a Vulcan. I thought they were, like, asexual or something. Sorry, Spock.”

“No matter, Hikaru.”

“Well, uh, he was kinda drunk,” said Uhura, looking anywhere but at Spock.

“Vulcans do not drink,” said Spock automatically. When everybody snickered, he put his icewine down, scowling.

“I am half human, may I remind you,” said Spock sternly. “Pure Vulcans have almost no tolerance for alcoholic beverages; what they drink does not filter through their—”

“We’re students, not idiots,” growled Bones.

“He had like a quarter of a shot,” said Uhura. “It was enough. Please, can we move on?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Chapel. “Can you look him in the eye yet?”

“Definitely not,” said Uhura. “And also, guys, I wasn’t lying about having had sex with a stranger. I’d met him before.”

“Mmhm.”

“I had! Maybe it hadn’t been for long, but… still. I knew of him, at least. Now seriously. Who’s going next?”

“My turn,” said Sulu, waving his hand tipsily in the air. “Something serious, maybe? How about, never I have ever tried to kill myself?”

In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Kirk and Spock took small, self-conscious drinks.

They were both remembering.

x

As Spock fell, he regretted his actions, he regretted his heritage, he regretted his whole life. He watched the ground devour the sky until the ground was all that was left, and then it ate him too, biting into his back, snapping it clean in half with its blunt brown teeth.

When he woke up, the regret was still there, laced with pain. Without hesitation he tried to rewire the machine he was hooked up to, trying to force it to overdose him. The nurses wrestled the cords away, pressing hyposprays into his neck.

When he woke up again, he was restrained. He tore at his bindings until doctors flooded the room. He tried to calm, but all the people—they were too much, too loud, too soon. He wrenched at the restraints, screaming. His barely-healed back broke again, and the pain consumed him like the ground had.

When he woke up again, he was facing a window. His mind was filled with drugs. He was in the psych ward. They didn’t trust him. Why should they?

He floated, for a while, watching the sky.

x

Winona slapped Kirk across the face, panicking. She forced syrup of ipecac down him and leaned him over a trashcan. She was yelling, tears streaming down her face. He couldn’t hear anything but the hateful beat of his heart. The pills came up, a white mass that tore apart his throat, and he collapsed.

In the hospital, he wouldn’t speak to anybody, not the doctors, or the nurses, or the psychologists. Not even his mother, or his brother. And certainly not his stepfather, who only visited him once anyway.

He just lay there, wishing he could have succeeded, but hating himself for trying.

x

Everybody was asleep.

No, not everybody. Spock was awake. He wasn’t tired.

The game hadn’t lasted long after that. Nobody had meant to stumble that far into serious territory. They lapsed, separating. Bones tried to talk to Kirk, but Kirk wouldn’t talk to him, not about what had happened. Spock wouldn’t talk to anybody.

Eventually they faded into sleep.

Spock remained, staring out a window. Darkness had swallowed the house.

The house was full of windows. They all let in the bright moonlight, casting shapes into stark relief. The house looked filled with monsters. Spock supposed it was, in a way. He put his hand on a glass pane, eyes tracing the outline of trees outside. 

He stepped amongst their sleeping forms, observing their breath, the flicker of their eyelids. Sulu was asleep next to Chekov, his hand stretched out towards the boy, nearly touching Chekov’s sleeping bag. Kirk was curled up, almost fetal, a deep frown on his face. He was angled away from Bones, who was open to him, almost inviting. Chapel, near Bones, was asleep in much the same fashion as Sulu. A hand reached towards Bones, but he was very far away. Scotty slept like Spock would like to, on his back with his arms crossed over his chest. Uhura was invisible under her covers, separated from everyone else.

He paused in the center of them. They were splayed around him as if he had killed them, or defeated them. He couldn’t decide which. 

He moved out of the living room into a hallway, then into another large chamber. He sank to the hardwood floor, back to the entrance, eyes on the outdoors. He didn’t know how long he watched the night.

“Spock,” said a voice behind him.

Uhura was awake. She wasn’t tired either.

He turned and looked at her for a long moment. She was framed in another window, wrapped in the blanket she had brought with her. She looked like a priestess wrapped in a ceremonial robe. Her loose hair glowed in the moonlight. He felt his throat dry. There was something like awe climbing up his brain stem, wrapping itself around his thoughts.

He moved over a little, making room for her next to him. She settled beside him.

The room looked out over a zen garden. They were silent, watching the stillness. Spock felt wrapped in a blanket of calm.

“Things—things come out prettier, when they’re bad,” said Uhura quietly, at last. “Because then every drop of good is beautiful.”

“Yes,” Spock replied after a while, staring into the sky. “Even when those drops are few and far between. Sometimes they can be like water in the desert. You want them so badly, but they hurt going down, since you are unused to their nourishment.”

“I would pour you a cup, but not if it hurt you,” said Uhura. “Unless you chose to drink despite the pain.”

Spock turned to her.

“I did hurt,” he said. “I do not, anymore.”

He leaned to her mouth, brushing it with his lips. She was still.

“You love me,” he said.

“I do,” she replied.

He kissed her again. And again.

The moon glowed, abstrusely.

x


	11. Chapter Eleven: Bread and Circuses

“I don’t want to talk about it, Winona.”

“Maybe you don’t, but I sure do. You can’t just barge in here and tell me something like that and then want to leave.”

“And yet.” He started towards the door.

“Christopher.”

Pike paused, hand near the button to open the door.

“Christopher,” said Winona. “I understand what you’re going through.”

“You—you understand? How could you possibly understand?”

“You had to have thought I’d understand a little if you came to tell me something like that.”

“Well, yes, but—”

Winona shook her head. “No, never mind. I am too tired for this. I just got an assignment and I should be going. Just, don’t mention this to Jim, okay?”

“I would never.”

“Good. I’ll see you around?”

“I’ll see you around.”

Pike left. Winona plopped onto a couch. 

What an interesting development, she thought.

x

Speaking of interesting developments.

Chapel woke up first, at around seven thirty. She rolled over to find Spock and Uhura sleeping side by side, Spock’s arm thrown loosely over Uhura’s shoulders. Chapel made subtle but persistent noises until Uhura opened her eyes, saw Chapel gaping at her, and winked slowly.

Chapel poked Sulu hurriedly in the ribs. He moaned and rolled over, covering his eyes with his blanket. Damn. She tried Bones next. He actually tried to hit her. Scotty responded better. He sat up and looked over to where Chapel was pointing.

What th’ hell? he mouthed at Chapel.

Chapel shrugged, eyes wide.

Uhura pulled herself out from under Spock’s arm. He made a quiet, adorable noise and grabbed her pillow, hugging it to him, before going completely back to sleep.

Scotty and Chapel dragged Uhura into the kitchen. 

“Well?” they demanded.

Uhura couldn’t stop smiling. She sighed and spun, her nightgown whipping around her legs. “He kissed me!” she trilled. “We’d all fallen asleep, and I was having this dream. It was the strangest thing, like all of these layers of darkness were unpeeling around me and finally everything in front of me was white, and I woke up and the curtain had been pushed aside somehow and the streetlamp was shining in my face. So I got up and yawned a bit and played a couple of games on my PADD before I noticed that Spock wasn’t in the room so I went looking for him and he was sitting in the back room, looking out at the garden, and he looked so sad. And I said his name and he looked at me and—I don’t know. He just got this expression, like he was looking at something he’d never seen before.”

She paused to take a long drink of water. She was high with elation.

“And I went and sat next to him. And the atmosphere was—it was like molten electricity. Like everything was still, but full of—potential, as if it was all about to become kinetic and active. And I knew what he was thinking, sort of. About how he’d, you know, tried to kill himself at one point. And I knew that the atmosphere must feel different to him, I mean, it was kind of haunting, kind of nostalgic. He was so obviously sad. So I said something like, ‘When things are bad, then the good looks particularly beautiful.’ And we got into this amazing analogy about water in the desert, and I offered to make everything better, I guess you could say. And he said he was already better.”

She fluttered. “And then he kissed me! He just leaned over and there were his lips and I was like, buh. Just flattened. You could have hit me with a rocket launcher and I wouldn’t have moved.”

She stopped.

“What?” said Chapel.

“Well, the next bit, I don’t know about,” she said. “He said—he said it like a statement. He said, ‘You love me,’ and I said, ‘I do,’ and then we just kept kissing and kissing and, well. We ended up on the floor.” She sighed hugely. “He got on top of me. It was the best thing that has ever happened to me. In my life. Although I think sex with him might be so good that I would explode, and not metaphorically. Like actually.”

“So he never said he loved you?” said Scotty.

Uhura shrugged. “He never said.”

“Huh,” said Scotty and Chapel at the same time.

Uhura rolled her eyes. “Come on. Like it matters.”

“It does matter!” said Chapel. “It means he’s not as in to you as you are to him.”

“So? He’s at least in to me.”

“But if you want it to go somewhere, there has t’ be equal footin’,” said Scotty.

“Oh, not necessarily,” said Uhura. When Chapel and Scotty both tried to say something, she interrupted. “That is to say, I don’t care. He can feel however he wants as long as he keeps putting his tongue in my mouth. And he was definitely lying last night, he has been kissed before, because he sure knows how to do it.”

x

When Kirk woke up at eight, Uhura, Scotty, and Chapel were not in the room. Everybody else was asleep. He had a massive headache and didn’t feel like doing a thing but getting out of Sulu’s house, taking a long, hot shower, and going back to sleep. He attempted not to wake anybody else up, but as he was leaving, he accidentally dropped his bag on Bones’s head.

Bones let out a series of muffled curses, flailing. Chekov, Sulu, and Spock all shifted identically in their sleeping bags and blankets. Kirk tried not to giggle and pulled his bag off of Bones’s skull, whispering sorry.

Bones mouthed obscenities at him. Kirk, thinking for a moment, leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Can I come over to your house?”

For a moment, Bones seemed incapable of replying through his rage. Then he covered his eyes and nodded shortly. Kirk, grinning, left Sulu a note thanking him for a great time (Not really, he thought) and tossed his bag on his motorcycle. Bones came out a few minutes later and Kirk followed him home.

x

Uhura made sure to be close by when Spock woke up. She was cross-legged next to their makeshift bed, working on Vulcan vocabulary on her PADD. She saw his eyelids flutter and glanced over. He stretched, pushing the pillow away from him, and automatically reached up his hand to smooth down his hair. Then he saw her staring at him.

Her heart melted when a small smile played across his lips.

He sat up and leaned over, resting his hand on her shoulder. He kissed her lightly on the lips, then on the cheek, and moved back, further away but still intimately close. Uhura could see Scotty and Chapel peeking around the wall. She ignored them.

“Good morning,” she said softly.

“Good morning,” he replied. He looked hazily content. She was glad to see she had wrought such a change in his attitude. He seemed almost decadently lazy. He kissed her again, deeper this time. He obviously didn’t care if anybody else was in the room. He hadn’t even looked around to see who was awake.

“Would you like to leave?” he said. “We could go back to my house and—” The pause was well-measured and small. “—study.”

“I would love to,” said Uhura, surprised at how deep her voice was. 

She managed to rouse Sulu from his coma and say goodbye, inserting as many meaningful winks into the conversation as possible. But Sulu was extremely stupid early in the morning and kept asking what was wrong with her eye, so she left it at that and went home with Spock.

x

Chapel and Scotty cleared out quickly. Bones invited them to his house; evidently Kirk had fallen asleep on Bones’s bed after taking a shower and Bones was bored to high heaven. They left Sulu and Chekov to sleep.

Chekov woke up at around eleven. Sulu was still completely out. Chekov wandered into the kitchen and found eggs and bacon. Sulu was roused by the divine smell of cooking breakfast.

Wrapping his blanket blearily around his shoulders, he stumbled into the dining room. Chekov was dropping bubbling sunny-side up eggs onto a plate, accompanied by three long, crisp slices of bacon. He had even replicated some rolls. Two frosty glasses of orange juice were already sitting on the kitchen bar.

“Pavel,” said Sulu, frozen by the entryway. “You made breakfast?”

Chekov grinned at him, plate in one hand, spatula in the other. “Da, Hikaru. Does it look good? My mother says I am a wery talented cook. Now you can see if I am.”

He chivvied Sulu into a chair and set the plate in front of him. 

“Dig in,” he invited happily. Sulu, still unable to believe what was happening, tasted the eggs. They were delicious.

“Pavel, this is amazing,” he said, his mouth full. “You should be a chef!”

“Oh, you are, how do you say, encourageable?”

“Incorrigible, Pavel. And that’s not entirely true. I’m not bad, I just like your cooking.”

“Ah. My English is not the best. Thank you.”

They cleaned up the kitchen when they were finished. Then they wandered into the game room. Sulu had a number of old holoprograms Chekov was interested in, primarily those based on old science fiction movies and television shows. 

“Sci-fi doesn’t hold up very well,” Sulu commented as Chekov flicked through the programs. “I don’t get why people are still such big fans of stuff from the past. The 21st century especially had some low-quality output.”

Chekov frowned. “I beg to differ, Hikaru,” he said, selecting a program and assigning it to the computer. “It is the ideas, they are vhat are constant through time. You can haf terrible effects and an incredible story.”

“Yeah, but—what’d you choose? Star Wars? Come on, it’s just Joseph Campbell in space. There’s nothing creative about it.”

“Do you dislike all early science fiction?”

“Basically.”

“You don’t even like Battlestar Galactica? Or Raker’s? Saber? Babylon 5? Geocentric?”

Sulu shook his head. “I don’t do anything before the 22nd century. Period.”

“I never liked you,” Chekov informed Sulu sadly. “Science fiction was inwented by the Russians much before the 22nd century.” He snapped on the hologlasses for the Star Wars program. “You are not allowed to play with me. Go sit ower there while I haf fun in the 20th century.”

Sulu threw up his hands, laughing. “Fine, be that way.”

Chekov, mouth set, was already in the program. Smiling at the boy’s attachment to camp, Sulu activated a 22nd century game of his own.

x

Uhura had never been to Spock’s house before. It was a large, brown-red structure at the end of a cul-de-sac in the upscale part of Lessels. Since Chapel had given her a ride to Sulu’s, Spock had driven her to his house. 

Uhura realized that this visit might be a little more than she had bargained for. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night and probably looked terrible, though she’d done her best in the bathroom back at Sulu’s. Her hair was tamed and her makeup had been corrected, but she knew she had bags under her eyes and her skin was oily. Spock, though, looked perfect. Not a hair was out of place. How the hell did he manage that?

“My parents are home,” said Spock quietly. He had met Uhura’s parents when he’d gone over to her house. But this was inherently different. Uhura’s father was very laid back and would have reacted the same to Spock were he dating Uhura or not. But Spock’s parents—

“My mother is a kind woman, but she is protective of me,” said Spock. “My father will seem—frankly, he will seem unkind. But that is his way. He will reserve judgment of you for quite some time. I am sure he will like you, however. And while I-Chaya is very enthusiastic, do not be afraid of him.”

“I-Chaya—?”

Spock had already gotten out of the car. He hurried to the other side of the car and held the door open for her. She smiled, forgetting her question, and he kissed her lightly.

“Mother?” called Spock, opening the front door. “Where are you? I have brought someone to meet—”

Uhura squealed as a huge, shaggy creature bounded out of a room off the entranceway and threw itself at her. She staggered backwards as the thing licked her face enthusiastically, its front paws resting on her shoulders.

“I-Chaya! Down!” snapped Spock. The creature dropped down, wagging its stub of a tail woefully. Spock rubbed it roughly between the ears. “Do not assault Nyota,” he commanded sternly.

“Is—is that a sehlat?” Uhura managed, wiping her face. The creature looked like a gigantic teddy bear with six-inch incisors that grew over its lips and past its chin.

“Yes,” said Spock. “I-Chaya has been with me since my birth. Haven’t you, boy?” he said, scratching the sehlat’s chest lovingly. “Good sehlat.”

That thing can provoke conjunctions from him, Uhura thought with amazement. He must really love it.

“Good morning, dear,” said Amanda from the entrance to the kitchen. “Who’s that you’ve got with you? I-Chaya, over here.” She snapped her fingers. I-Chaya bounded across the living room to her, leaping over the sofa on his way.

“This is Nyota Uhura, mother,” said Spock, taking Uhura’s hand. “She is the girl I have been tutoring in Vulcan.”

Amanda’s eyes snapped from their hands to Spock’s face. “Tutoring?” she said dryly.

“In Vulcan,” said Spock steadily. Uhura stared at her shoes.

“Are you still tutoring her, then?” So that was where Spock got his desert-dry wit.

“Yes, mother,” said Spock. “In addition, I have entered into a relationship with her.”

Amanda wiped her hands on the towel she was holding, now staring at Uhura. She looked somewhat surprised. Uhura fidgeted. Then Amanda’s face broke into a smile.

“Come in,” she said. “I’m sorry, here, have a seat, I’ll make you two some breakfast. You can call me Amanda. So, you’re learning Vulcan, dear? Who’s your teacher?”

Spock’s lips twisted as if he were trying to repress laughter; he was clearly remembering her confession from the night before. Uhura felt her cheeks go warm and was thankful that nobody could see her blush.

“Mr. Sinor,” whispered Uhura.

“I know Sinor,” said Amanda, her back to Spock and Uhura. “He’s a friend of your father’s, Spock. He just moved here this summer, didn’t he? He really seems to like Earth.”

“I’ve noticed,” Uhura managed to say. “He’s a great teacher.”

“Yes, quite,” said Amanda. “He was a lecturer at the Vulcan Science Academy before he started consulting for Starfleet. I understand he teaches in his spare time. Has Spock’s tutoring been helpful?”

“Definitely,” said Uhura. “I didn’t need any help, per say, but I like to do well in my classes.”

“She can speak eighteen languages, mother,” said Spock.

“Very impressive,” said Amanda. “Ash’en eo ohn kahshivay’e?” she said, turning to Uhura.

“Om’shavon neishakash a’fur da’koyif,” Uhura replied smoothly.

“Soufa,” said Spock. “Stop. My Andorian is rusty, as one would say in English. What were you saying?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Amanda, her eyes lighting up. “I love that language even more than Vulcan. I’m very glad to find somebody who can speak it. Sh’fay om’shavak goyinkan, asibit’k?”

“Ay, mesakasun ohn dr’koyif,” said Uhura.

“Yes, I suppose we should return to Standard. Sorry, Sprocket,” she said to Spock.

Uhura’s eyes widened. Sprocket? she mouthed to Spock.

“It is her nickname for me,” whispered Spock, looking irritated. “I dislike nicknames.” 

Uhura couldn’t help but giggle.

Amanda served them grilled vegetables and eggs, putting down a bowl of raw meat for I-Chaya, who positively attacked the food. She and Uhura discussed Spock a little, which made Spock scowl into his Brussels sprouts. They were nearly finished eating when Sarek entered the kitchen, dressed formally.

“Good morning, father,” said Spock.

“Good morning,” Sarek replied, kissing Amanda on the cheek and scratching I-Chaya’s chin. He turned expectantly to Uhura.

“This is Nyota Uhura,” said Spock. “We are in a relationship.”

God, he’s so blunt, Uhura thought. She looked at Sarek, who was looking back at her with absolutely no expression. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Sarek.”

“Greetings, Nyota,” said Sarek. He turned back to Amanda. “I must leave. I will return at two o’clock.”

“Be careful, dear,” said Amanda, smiling and squeezing Sarek’s hand. 

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said Sarek, nodding to Uhura. He put a hand on Spock’s shoulder and left.

Uhura let out the breath she’d been holding. Amanda nodded knowingly.

“He has that affect on you, at first,” she said. “You get used to it.”

After breakfast, they spread their homework out on the living room floor. Amanda left to go shopping and they ended up making out on the couch for an hour. Uhura was pleasantly surprised that she could distract him from schoolwork.

“We never really discussed entering into a relationship,” said Uhura between kisses. “You’re sure you want to?”

“Do I seem to be hesitating on the matter?”

Uhura laughed. “I’ll give you that. Hey, who else have you dated? I know there was Evan Gray, last year, and uh, was her name Bette? In freshman year?”

“Yvette Gessard,” he said. “Her family moved back to France. Evan and I broke off our relationship because we differed on a number of crucial points.”

“Oh? Such as?”

“Evan was interested in pursuing a sexual relationship. I felt, at the time, that I was too young for such an association.”

He saw the expression on Uhura’s face still.

“Of course, I have matured,” he said quietly. Then, to drive the point home, he licked her ear.

They weren’t going to get back to homework for quite a while.

x


	12. Chapter Twelve: Arena

Bones, when Chapel told him about Spock and Uhura, spat cranberry juice all over the living room carpet and had to activate an emergency cleaning procedure to make sure the stain didn’t set in. Scotty and Chapel were no use during the cranberry crisis, since they were too busy laughing their asses off at Bones’s high-trajectory spit-take. Bones cursed at them and ran around chivvying robots towards specks of crimson. The robots, for the most part, ignored him.

When the carpet was clean, Bones turned back to Scotty and Chapel.

“Would you please,” he growled at them, totally unaware of the juice that had frozen tackily on his chin, “repeat what you said?”

They couldn’t help it. They laughed for about another year before they explained the situation to him. 

Bones was shocked, to say the least. He’d gotten the feeling that Spock had been attracted to Kirk—there had been something in the way they’d fought last night—not Uhura. Everbody knew that Uhura was in to Spock, but he was surprised it had evidently worked out so well for them.

Chapel was twirling a glass on her finger. She’d been friends with Uhura since forever, certainly as long as she could remember. Their mothers had taken a Lamaze class together. They had done the usual best friends thing, hanging out and playing with Barbie dolls and GI Joes constantly as kids, hitting deeply awkward puberty at the same time and being utterly weirded out by it, having sex together when they were fourteen and getting over it by the time they were fifteen in favor of all of the other people who wanted to sleep with them. They had been close to Scotty, too, but he was different—his family was very eccentric (not to mention alarmingly Scottish) and he seemed to be mechanosexual instead of omnisexual. 

Bones’s family had lived in a different part of San Francisco. They didn’t meet him until high school, after Kirk was no longer in an influence in his life. Sulu they had known since elementary school, but he had never been to close to them until now. And Spock, since he had moved from Vulcan, had always just been around, a constant presence in their AP classes and extracurriculars. He never seemed to consider himself friends with anybody, but they weren’t too offended. Junior year he had started actually hanging out with people, shifting between various groups before settling into the Hoverclub clique, which was less of a clique and more of six people with a common interest. They weren’t exclusive by any means; Gaila and Rand hung out with them quite often, as did Kevin Riley, Helen Noel, and Elizabeth Dehner and Gary Mitchell, who had been together since middle school.

Chapel had always been somewhat fascinated by Bones. He was a slim man, which meant that the opposing football team took him for granted, disbelieving the stories about Enterprise High’s star quarterback until he flattened them out and scored touchdown after touchdown without breaking a sweat. He was soft-spoken around women, polite and traditional, which weirded most girls out even though they had to admit that they liked it. Around boys he was all rough and tumble, ready to go yet oddly subordinate, as if he’d had enough of being in charge ages ago and was waiting around for somebody else to lead. And his blue eyes, pale as the clouds, could see through any pretense. He didn’t associate with bullshitters.

Chapel tossed the spinning glass into the air and caught it smoothly. Bones and Scotty were in the kitchen making sandwiches. Neither of Bones’s fathers were awake yet, even though it was nearly noon. Evidently one of them had had to work late, and the other had stayed up to wait for him. Chapel wondered momentarily what it would be like to have two parents. She couldn’t imagine how complicated that would be. Her mother’s asexuality had given her no advantages. She was unused to entering into relationships, usually remaining in the unrequited attraction stage for longer than was entirely healthy. 

The boys came out of the kitchen bearing lunch. One of them had made her a sandwich, which Scotty placed in front of her. It was a roast beef and Swiss cheese abomination, two tiny slices of Parisian bread swathed in about half a pound of meat and six slices of cheese. The accompanying pickle was obscenely large. 

“Thanks,” said Chapel dryly, eyeing the creation. “I’ll just run in here and get a fork.”

She managed to consume about half of her meal, while the boys, whose sandwiches were even larger than hers, went back for seconds. Afterwards, as Scotty was picking his teeth attractively with a screwdriver, Bones asked her if she wanted to play tennis. 

“Let me digest for a while, first,” she said. “Got an extra racket? Or should I run home?”

“I’ve got a graphite one with a small grip,” said Bones. “Mind if it’s a bit worn?”

“As long as it’s still tight.”

Scotty burped. “Ah’ll be goin’, then,” he said, standing. “Should go work on th’ poor Enterprise. You two have fun.” For some reason, he winked at Bones before leaving.

“What are you planning?” she demanded of Bones the moment the door had closed. “Why’d he wink at you?”

Bones rubbed his chin, looking nervous. “No reason,” he said shiftily, moving to put away the lunch plates.

“No, what is it?”

“Well, it’s nothin’, I was jus’ thinkin’ about maybe askin’ you to go see a—a movie with me some time, maybe, if you were interested…”

Bones’s expression was hangdog and pleading. Chapel grinned at him, her heartbeat speeding up imperceptibly. 

“I’d love to, sometime,” she said. “If you beat me. Five out of eight?”

“It’s on,” said McCoy, a smile lighting up those ice blue eyes.

x

Kirk was awoken by the quick chr-chr-chr of his communicator. He fumbled around for it on the bed and flipped it open, eyes still closed.

“Hullo?”

“Jim, where are you? It’s nearly five and I want you here for dinner, Sam says he might be coming over.”

“That’s likely, mom,” muttered Kirk. “Uh, okay, I’ll be right home.”

“Hurry, dear. Where are you?”

Hazy, Kirk glanced around. He took a moment to recognize the room he was asleep in. “At Bones’s.”

“Invite him and his parents over too, will you? I accidentally made quite a lot of food.”

“Accidentally?”

“I was trying recipes and one thing led to another. Just ask, Jim.”

“Okay, okay.”

“And get home!”

“Okay! Bye!” Kirk snapped the communicator shut and sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily. “Lights.”

Bones’s bedroom came into focus and color. Kirk frowned at the room in general; it was disturbingly clean, unnatural for a high school student. There was a PADD sitting on the nightstand that had evidently been set to activate when the lights came on. It lit up and started beeping gently. Kirk picked it up.

Bones had written:

Jim,

Went to play tennis with Christine at one. You’re still not awake and I am unwilling to waste precious time kicking your lazy ass out of my house. Get out when you wake up. I let my parents know you were here. They won’t be too freaked out by the sight of you, depending on how bad your bed-head is. Might call you later,

Bones

“Such a sweet, mild-mannered friend,” said Kirk quietly. He replaced the PADD and left Bones’s room. David and Ian, Bones’s fathers, were in the living room, reading. They stood to greet Kirk when he appeared.

“It’s been too long,” said David, smiling kindly at Kirk before giving him a tight hug. He was tall—less tall than Kirk remembered, of course—with messy blond hair and Bones’s bright blue eyes. “You’ve grown so much! How’s Winona? How was Iowa?”

“Mom’s fine, Iowa was terrible,” said Kirk, realizing that David’s face was much more worn than he expected it to be. Ian shook Kirk’s hand firmly. He was even taller than David, with dark brown hair laced with gray and deep-set hazel eyes. The frowning natural set of Ian’s mouth was the same as Bones’s, Kirk noticed. “Are you two interested in dinner at our house?”

“That would be wonderful, but one of our friends already invited us to eat,” said Ian. “Maybe another time?”

“Definitely,” said Kirk. “Sorry I overstayed my welcome. I didn’t expect Bones to just leave me like this.”

“He had a date,” said David, crow’s feet wrinkling around his eyes. “Evidently Christine Chapel was willing to barter tennis for an evening at the movie theater.”

“Oh, cool,” said Kirk, mostly happy for Bones, but just a little jealous. Christine, to him, was a great girl, with a nice, weird sense of humor and huge… lips. Plus, when they’d been talking to him about anatomy the other day, she’d told him some really interesting stuff about the Gräfenberg spot. Still, he felt protective of Bones.

“I should go,” Kirk said regretfully. “Mom might kill me if I don’t get home soon.”

“I’m sorry,” said David. “Go ahead, tell her we said hi. And let her know that we’d love to have dinner some time, just call!”

“Can do. Thanks for having me. Bye!”

Outside, Kirk swung onto his motorcycle and revved the engine, finally wide awake.

x

Bones and Chapel were evenly matched tennis players. Chapel barely beat him. They had to play an extra round since they’d ended up tied at four-four after the first eight games. They staggered off the court, gulping down water. Chapel’s whole body was buzzing from the adrenaline. She felt like she’d just had large quantities of energetic, euphoric sex.

“Want to go to the Shore Leave?” Bones panted, leaning on his racket outside of the court. It was three in the afternoon and they were both sweating profusely.

“I would kill a man for a frappe,” said Chapel. “Yes, please.”

They talked over coffee for nearly three hours. By the end of it, Chapel felt more confused than anything. She liked how Bones was polite and sweet, how he treated her like porcelain. But she couldn’t forget their tennis match. They had both played brutally, slamming the ball across the court as if they were taking revenge on it. Bones had seemed so intense then, as if his soul were bared whenever he picked up a tennis ball, but now, he was covered back up, sarcastic but gentle, always hovering, which was nice enough, but not quite as sexy.

Neither of them said a thing about going on a date. The moment had passed into companionship, and they parted on friendly terms. Back at her house, Chapel ate her dinner distractedly. All she could focus on was the moment, late in the final game, when Bones’s fingers had tightened so relentlessly on his racket that his knuckles turned white, then purple. He had missed the volley and she had moved to advantage. When she scored the final point, his hands loosened, and in response, something inside of her loosened too.

x

I-Chaya started growling five minutes before Amanda got home, giving Spock and Uhura time to disentangle themselves and pretend to be absorbed in homework. Uhura kept shooting Spock shy smiles, and Spock kept touching her wrist. Uhura liked when he did that. Actually, she liked it whenever he touched her.

Spock was pleased. He had not planned on entering into a relationship with Uhura so early in their friendship. He had considered asking her out eventually—not quite so quickly—but he was fine with the way things had worked out. He was drunk on her collarbones, her lips, her legs. He had never really appreciated the female physique before this; he had been too young to fully understand why he was attracted to Yvette, and Evan, his recent conquest, was male. Now, though, he felt like singing the praises of any female who looked his way, Uhura especially. He was infatuated.

Amanda disappeared into deeper parts of the house when she returned from shopping, leaving the two mostly alone again. They were more cautious. They sat close to each other, textbooks open in their laps, stealing kisses between problems. 

They were fascinated by their differences. He ran his mouth over his ears, nibbling the curved top, small scraps of ear wax bitter on his tongue. She traced his sweeping eyebrows with soft fingers, pressing butterfly kisses to his eyelids, massaging the tips of his ears. She playfully tried to curve his lips into a smile, and he moved back, eyes wide and full of laughter, even though he didn’t move his mouth out of its impassive line. He watched her face morph through a thousand feelings, thoughts flickering across her visage like words on a screen. She was strangely easy to read. He could feel devotion in there, loyalty and determination. And a deep, slightly unstable passion. She was obsessive, he could tell. It should have bothered him, but it didn’t. Instead, he felt honored by her attentions.

Finally, Uhura’s father summoned her home. She said goodbye to Amanda and kissed Spock farewell on his doorstep, promising with fluttering eyelashes to study her Vulcan hard that night, watching him to see if he was aware of the double entendre. He was faintly disturbed by the implications of her words. He had never considered himself an object of desire, much less something to fantasize about during self-stimulation. Eyebrows slightly creased, he watched her walk away, heading for the bus stop on the main road. Her house was close by, only about five minutes from his by car, but a full thirty on foot. 

Sarek and Amanda asked Spock a number of questions about Uhura that night during supper. They seemed to approve of her. Amanda couldn’t shake the feeling that Spock only liked the girl because she liked him, and Sarek had always thought his son had expressed homosexual tendencies and was not compatible with a female. But they were supportive of their son, telling him to invite Uhura over for dinner soon.

Uhura told her father Chane all about Spock over dinner. Chane had heard quite a bit about Spock already, and he was happy that his daughter had finally captured the boy. He was interested in talking to him in detail. Uhura promised to bring Spock around the next day.

Sunday was a lazy day for the Hoverclub. Scotty decided to abandon physical labor on the Enterprise for now. She had to be rebuilt almost entirely, so he spent most of the day coming up with possible designs. Spock and Uhura studied at Uhura’s house for hours, actually getting a bit of homework done between kisses. Kirk, whose brother had not showed up for dinner, was forced by Winona to help her unpack the house. Sulu, Chekov, Gaila, Bones, and Chapel met up at the Shore Leave late in the day.

Monday morning dawned bright and cool. Kirk showered, complaining to himself about having to unpack all day yesterday and massaging his muscles bitterly. He was preoccupied by self-pity while he motored to school, weaving in and out of traffic. He parked at the high school and was walking inside when he happened to glance towards a dragon tree on the grass quad near the back cafeteria entrance. He stopped in his tracks, staring, as Spock leaned down to kiss Uhura deeply.

He stumbled into English and clutched at Bones, who was talking to Chapel. 

“Spock and Nyota?” he demanded in a high-pitched voice.

“Yup,” said Bones gloomily. “They’re attached at the lip. Happened at Hikaru’s.”

“What? You couldn’t have told me this earlier? Like maybe when we were at Hikaru’s?”

“When we were at Hikaru’s I didn’t know. Scotty and Christine told me, after you’d died in my bed. And I didn’t see you all yesterday. You jealous?”

“Of course not! She can have him, for all I care!”

Bones gave him a strange look. “I was talkin’ about bein’ jealous of Spock. For havin’ Nyota.”

“Oh. Well. Yes.” Kirk growled at himself; why was he stumbling? “She is nice to look at, and all. I don’t get it, though! Nyota seems so—reasonable.”

“Jim, that’s why he likes her. She’s not insane, like some people I could name.”

“Subtle as a Bludger, aren’t you? I just don’t see what they have in common.”

“You don’t know either of ‘em very well, then. Nyota’s just about the calmest, most careful girl I ever knew. She has her candid moments, and she can be oddly helpful, but other ‘n that, exceptin’ the sense of humor and the temper, she’s Spock’s twin.”

“Weird,” said Kirk fervently. He was watching Spock and Uhura walk into class, hand in hand.

“Don’t overexert yourself, kid,” said Bones, slapping Kirk on the shoulder. “Sit, bell’s about to ring.”

Kirk watched Spock and Uhura for the rest of class, immersed in the wrongness of it. No matter what Bones said, he didn’t see Spock and Uhura lasting a week. He didn’t even think about why he was so up in arms about the matter.

When they had made it to their second month anniversary, Kirk would look back and want to slap himself in the face.

x


	13. Chapter Thirteen: A Taste of Armageddon

Monday night

x

George Samuel Kirk, Jr., had never been very responsible. He was much like his younger brother: extremely bright, impetuous, and interested in troublemaking. But while Jim was even-handed, keeping his temper simmering at a normal level, Sam had no patience at all. Six years ago, when Jim was eleven and Sam was fourteen, Sam had had one last argument with their stepfather, Franklin Sanford, and left home. Winona, who was off-planet at the time, didn’t find out until she got back from Regulus IV, six months later. Jim had never forgiven Sam for leaving, but that didn’t mean he was unhappy to see his brother finally knocking on his front door.

Jim threw the door open and hugged Sam tightly. Sam was a bearded, taller version of Jim, heaver and more confident. Sam introduced the woman accompanying him, an elegant, sweet-eyed brunette, as Aurelan Swift. She smiled nervously at Jim and shook his hand.

Winona bustled over, slapping Sam on the arm for not showing up two days earlier for dinner like he’d said he would. Then she hugged him too, and greeted Aurelan. The four ventured into the living room.

In the past six years, Jim had only been with Sam for seven days. Sam had returned to Riverside for a week after Frank finally moved out, four years ago. At first, Jim had been entirely unwilling to talk to him, but by the end of their time together, they had reconciled.

Sam had hitched a ride to Chicago the day of his last argument with Frank and started school there as an emancipated minor. He’d worked a number of odd jobs until he’d gotten hired as an assistant in a private biological research lab. He’d been arrested twenty times before he turned eighteen despite having responsibility pressed upon him at a young age. But now, with Aurelan next to him, he seemed calmer. Evidently she had slowed his headstrong rush.

“We’re living in Austin,” said Sam. “The university there’s got me running an evolutionary biology lab. Aurelan’s a student in astrophysics. We came here for a joint job interview with Starfleet; they’re thinking about sending us to Earth Colony II.”

“How long have you two been together, now?” asked Winona.

“Ever since I moved down to Texas a year ago,” said Sam, smiling at Aurelan. He looked at his mother, eyes glittering. “I was extra motivated to take that interview with Starfleet—I’ve got news for you, mom. We’re pregnant.”

Winona squealed and threw her arms around Sam and Aurelan, who laughed happily. Jim was frozen for a moment, but recovered quickly, standing to shake Sam’s hand. The embryo was only at a month and a half, but they already had names picked out. Winona threw a fit, going into a grandmotherly frenzy. She drew Aurelan away to grill her about her family and history, wanting to get to know the mother of her grandchild. Sam and Jim were left on the couch while the women wandered into the kitchen.

“You’re old,” said Jim without preamble.

“I am,” agreed Sam, a distant smile gracing his features. “I am ancient. Elderly. Jim, I’m going to be a father. How weird is that?”

“Really, really weird,” said Jim, realizing that he was going to be an uncle. “Especially considering you’ll always be fourteen to me. Fourteen and just as tired of Frank as I was.”

“Ugh. Don’t even bring him into this conversation,” said Sam, making a face. “I’m happy right now. Did you see her? Isn’t she just the most beautiful woman in the world?”

“You’re biased.”

“Damn straight I’m biased. We’re considering getting married.”

“Woah now, don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

“No, really. I’ve already applied to be the second parent. We could just skip the process and have the child in wedlock.”

“You’re really interested in marrying her? Before I give my blessing, tell me a little more about Aurelan.”

They talked through dinner and for hours afterwards. When Sam and Aurelan finally had to leave, Jim had to admit that he was sad to see his brother go.

x

Sulu had fixed Chekov dinner in repayment for Chekov’s breakfast. They were at Sulu’s house again, eating ravioli out of cooking bowls. Sulu wasn’t very good at cooking, so he viewed the ravioli as more of an experiment in surface area to volume ratio. Only half of the ravioli had turned out well (Sulu had stuffed them himself), so he had dumped the failures in a bowl for his parents and emailed them that dinner was ready. They had just gotten back from wherever they had been. He’d only noticed when he’d seen their cars in the driveway earlier.

“Why do you talk so little with your parents?” Chekov asked after taking a long drink of water.

“We don’t have much in common,” said Sulu, spearing a ravioli. “You might see them at some point. I let them know I made dinner.”

“Is it not strange to be so far from your parents?”

“You get used to it,” said Sulu, shrugging. “When I was younger, it bothered me. But I’m really self-sufficient now.”

“Then they haf always been like this?”

“Basically. Miko and Inoue raised me.”

Chekov frowned. “I haf an older brother and two younger sisters, and we are close, but our parents take care of us. They do not—”

Chekov paused, hearing footsteps. He saw Sulu straighten a little, some hardness going into his eyes. A slim Japanese man with long black hair walked into the kitchen. He looked at Chekov only for a moment before turning to Sulu and speaking to him in Japanese.

Sulu replied shortly. Sulu’s father did not respond, simply taking the remaining ravioli and two forks with him as he left the room.

“What did he say?” said Chekov.

“He told me to ask them anytime I invite somebody over,” said Sulu, stabbing a pasta viciously.

Chekov did not know quite what to say. He sipped his water, watching as Sulu rubbed his creased forehead with a tired hand.

x

Chapel was texting Uhura.

idek where we’re going, she typed, glancing sideways at Bones to make sure he couldn’t see that she was on her PADD. hows your dinner?

ack, Uhura responded almost immediately. we havent started yet, im in the restrm hiding from sarek, that man is scary

sympathy. at least you got your loverboy.

youre working on yours though. ;)

Chapel flipped off the PADD, the corners of her lips upturned slightly. Bones was taking her out to dinner. He hadn’t said where, and for some reason, she didn’t ask. He was heading towards the financial district. They had been talking about their medical class until Bones’s dad had called to ask him something. For some reason, that had broken the conversation of.

Bones shelled out for valet at Tabac, a mid-price place Chapel had heard about but never been to. It had a great atmosphere. All of the décor was done in various shades of brown and all of the food dishes were extremely colorful. When they were seated and had ordered drinks, Bones mentioned that they didn’t serve brown food—the meals were dyed.

The fare was standard American. Chapel ordered shrimp, Bones tried grilled chicken. They didn’t say much to each other, but what they said had meaning.

Chapel was always getting flustered, and tonight was no exception. She cared very much about other people and was obvious to read, even though she tried to remain neutral and expressionless as much as possible. Everybody liked her, but just as much, everybody liked to see her flustered, since she widened her eyes and stuttered in that deep voice of hers, so they teased her about her strong emotions. She knew she had been a fool around Spock for the past few years, and now she was starting to be that way around Bones. But she wasn’t sure if he knew it or not. She was never sure exactly how much other people could tell about her.

Bones was perceptive, but he thought naïvely that Chapel was just being friendly. He was used to her stumbling over her words, accustomed to the elegant trip of her voice as her thoughts fell apart. She’d always been like that around Spock, but he hadn’t put everything together yet.

Plus, he was too busy being confused by the two people he was currently attracted to. One of them was sitting in front of him, smiling nervously, and the other was the last man he’d kissed.

x

Uhura was having an interesting evening, to say the very least. Sarek absolutely terrified her. She felt like latching on to Spock or Amanda and using them as shields. The man didn’t seem to blink. He was completely unlike Sinor, the only other Vulcan she’d had prolonged contact with. Even though Vulcans were members of the Federation, humans only saw their comrades on television or in news releases, rarely in person, and even more rarely one-on-one. The problem with Sarek was not that he was physically intimidating, it was that he didn’t say much, and what he did say seemed very, very important, so every word she gave in reply had to be carefully thought out beforehand. Uhura had always known what to say in any situation and was unused to putting effort into her speech, but Sarek had taken her apart, and trying to put herself back together over was proving difficult.

Amanda had made a meat dish for herself and Uhura, telling Uhura she generally kept with the Vulcan vegetarian diet but occasionally craved flesh and had taken advantage of having another human at the dining table. Evidently Vulcans served a number of courses at their meals, because there had been a salad, a soup, a bread, and now an entrée, each with its own set of dishes and alarming time between courses for Uhura to deal with Sarek.

Dinner was in the formal dining room at a huge gold oak table. Spock’s family was well off, and their house was large, but their decorations were simply… different. Instead of china cabinets or artwork, the room had been painted a pale red-brown. Gold and black swirls of Vulcan calligraphy and artwork, some in bas-relief, climbed the walls, arching on to the ceiling and growing out to form light fixtures and full sculptures. The chandelier above the table was one of the most beautiful things Uhura had ever seen; the Vulcan words (and derivatives thereof) for family, love, and logic sprung from the ceiling into 3D calligraphy that curled around light sources and dripped almost to the surface of the table. There was a matching centerpiece on the table, wrought of crystal: the word concentration twisted and swirled upwards, weaving into the dripping light.

Amanda scooped duck lo mein onto a plate for Uhura, I-Chaya nudging pointedly at her arm. Spock and Sarek were waiting to start on their vegetarian dish. Sarek turned to Uhura once more, asking her what her parents did for a living. She explained that she lived with one parent, her father, since her mother had left him years ago. He was an African literature professor at Berkley. Sarek said something about David Gbadamosi, a prominent 21st century philosopher who Uhura knew her father was interested in. They talked about his theory of threes for a while. Uhura even forgot about her food.

When Sarek paused to eat, Uhura realized why Sarek was such an incredible diplomat. He had the unexpected ability to command a situation. He had wanted her to be intimidated at first, she guessed, and now she had passed some kind of test and he was being less terrifying. 

Spock shot her a half smile. She felt much better.

x

Tuesday night

x

“It’s jus’—” Scotty mumbled through the corned beef in his mouth “—that ah can’t understand what he sees in you.” He stopped chewing for a moment, eyes going wide. Panicking, he waved his hands around, spitting flecks of bread into the air in his hurry to retract his statement. “Not that ah mean you’re not incredible, lass! Ach, damnit…”

Uhura laughed instead of taking offense. Her sense of humor was surprisingly fluid. “I know what you mean, Monty,” she said, taking a distinctively delicate bite of her pizza. “He always has a goal, doesn’t he? He doesn’t just do things.”

“Aye, that’s what ah was tryin’ t’ say.”

“I’m sure. Well, to be perfectly honest, I don’t feel like I know him that well yet. I know him as Spock, but not as my boyfriend.”

“It’d probably take quite some time t’ crack his shell,” said Scotty wisely. “You havenae talked about what happened at Hikaru’s, have yeh?”

“No, how could I? What do you think it was, anyway?”

Scotty shrugged. “Ah have no idea. Vulcan emotions run deep, in thin streams. Our feelin’s may be a wide river t’ cross, but ours’re shallow compared to theirs.”

“What is it with men and dangerous waters? D’you think all Vulcans have to be put on suicide watch at some point in their lives just because they think so much?”

“Wouldnae surprise me. But he is only half Vulcan, maybe that has somethin’ t’ do with it. He mentioned bein’ bullied when he was a young lad. Maybe he didnae fit in.”

“Spock, being at all concerned by social mores? Do you even know who you’re talking about?”

He shrugged again. “Vulcans are extremely concerned by social mores, jus’ not our own. Their society is stricter than ours. Maybe his piece couldnae fit in th’ puzzle, so he broke himself tryin’ t’ conform.”

x

Bones needed to clean his room. If he had voiced this thought aloud to Kirk, Kirk would have tried to take his temperature. The place looked spotless, but Bones could tell there was dust on the bookshelves and the carpet could use a vacuuming. He didn’t let the caretaking robots in to clean, preferring to disinfect on his own time. He was always going to be a germaphobe.

Bones’s room was painted and carpeted a deep blue, the same color as the science officer uniforms in Starfleet. Bones’s goal was work for Starfleet on some lush, tropical outer planet packed with organic potential, discovering cures for the major sicknesses of his day, like Yaralt’s Disease and the rack. He was skeptical about space—more than skeptical, actually, since he got motion sickness every time he went off planet—and had absolutely no desire to crew a Starfleet vessel, but if the Federation could get him to somewhere he could be useful, he’d be glad to go.

His fathers were out for their twenty-seventh anniversary dinner. Bones was eating thieboudienne out of a leftovers sack; he’d made too much of it for dinner a few nights ago. He’d been chatting with Chapel and Sulu earlier. He’d told Sulu about his situation, and Sulu had been most unhelpful, trying not to give advice in that damned considerate way of his when what he needed was actual advice. He was considering asking Uhura, but she was preoccupied with Spock, and what the hell was that about? Who knew Spock could keep up with Uhura? Dating Evan Gray, who had the personality of a whelk, had just about worn Spock down. And anyway, he was being unreasonably mad at anybody who liked Spock at the moment, since Kirk had so obviously been more worried about Spock being taken off the market than Uhura, and didn’t that sonofabitch like him, Bones, the guy he’d made out with for an hour and a half four nights ago? Then again, Bones had told him that he wasn’t interested in a relationship. But he’d realized pretty quickly he’d been lying to himself. The day of the race, Bones couldn’t stop thinking about the opportunity he’d missed. He had never had sex with a man before, but he was sure willing to try it now.

x

Kirk twirled his straw in his drink, gazing lovingly at the woman sitting across from him. Helen Noel was a truly beautiful girl. She had a mischievous face framed by dark, wavy hair and bright brown eyes. She looked like she could give him a run for his money in just about anything, and if there was anything Kirk liked, it was competition. 

She was in most of his AP classes. Her elective was psychology, which fascinated him. He loved psychiatrists and psychologists. He saw them as practice in strategy and tactics. Whenever he went to one—which was often, as a condition of the suicide watch placed on his medical record—he played an elaborate little game with them, hiding information in replies and holding out tasty tidbits of inner angst. Most of the psychologists never realized that he was playing a game. There had been one, an Orion a few years ago, who had grasped what was going on and nearly figured him out, but the session had ended not a moment too soon, and he’d requested a different shrink for his next appointment.

Helen was clever, guessing his intentions immediately. Their dinner was short and to the point, but in her bed that night, they took their time.

x

“How are you?” Winona asked Pike, passing him the lasagna. He took it quietly, shrugging. “Come on,” she said. “Have you at least talked to her?”

“Yes, I have,” he said. “The situation is insane. The baby isn’t hers. She’s surrogating again.”

“Oh, god, really? For who?”

“You don’t even want to know,” said Pike, shaking mozzarella angrily onto his pasta.

“I do,” said Winona gently. She touched Pike’s hand. “Tell me, Chris.”

Pike sighed heavily, falling back in his chair. They were at Winona’s, at the small dining table in the whitewashed kitchen, the bright automatic lights shadowing their faces unattractively. 

“It’s Barda and Ezar’s child,” he said, resentment in his voice. “They chose her as surrogate. She was well qualified, intelligent, and knew Barda’s family. Plus, her ex-husband was on the Supreme Court, remember? So she’s influential. And they figure it’ll be really significant that the child will have been gestated in a human womb.”

Winona gaped at Pike. “Are you supposed to be telling me this? I mean, the press has been speculating for ages on who the surrogate is.”

“I trust you,” said Pike. “No, I’m not supposed to be telling you, but fucking whatever. I’m too mad right now.”

“This child is going to cement the negotiations.”

“Certainly. The first famous Romulan/Vulcan infant, conceived by Vice President Barda and Counsel Ezar, carried by a human, delivered during the peace talks.”

Winona shook her head. “Barda and Ezar never found about what happened with you and her?”

“Maybe they did and just didn’t care,” said Pike. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? She got reassigned because of the incident. And look what it did to you!”

“Julie Eleen can do whatever the hell she wants,” said Pike viciously. “I don’t think she’s the right person for the job, but if Barda and Ezar want to trust their precious child to her, then so be it. I’ll tell you, though, she hasn’t changed a bit. She acted all ignorant the other day, when Kirk was up on the stand, like she didn’t know who he was or what she was going to do with him, or even who I was. She’s a player. She’s not to be trusted.” He sliced his lasagna down the middle, tomato sauce and ricotta spilling graphically out of the folds. “She betrayed me, and I’ll never forgive her.”

x

Wednesday night

x

Winona cooked antelope steaks the next night. Bones’s family was coming over. She made Kirk clean the living, bath, and dining rooms until they positively sparkled. The kitchen she had dealt with while Kirk was at school. It looked like a tamed, meek lion, considering how messy it had been before.

“You’d better appreciate the grandeur of this place,” said Kirk, waving at the house after Bones and his family had come in. Winona was talking to David and Ian. “I spent hours on it. We hadn’t given it a good clean since we moved in. There was elbow grease, Bones. My wrists are killing me.”

“You poor thing,” said Bones. “Are your wittle fingers tired too? Do you need to rest them?”

“Monster. You have no sympathy.”

David and Ian and Winona talked mainly with each other, although the adults would interrupt Kirk and Bones occasionally to annoy them with questions about school. Bones didn’t mind—talking to Kirk over dinner gave Bones an opportunity to watch Kirk’s mouth. Kirk, noticing this, made as much of his asparagus as possible. Bones went red.

After the meal, Winona poured chardonnay for the men and Kirk and Bones retreated to Kirk’s room.

Bones sat himself on the bed next to Kirk. “What d’you think about Chapel?” he asked Kirk.

“She’s great,” said Kirk seriously. “You two should date.” No, you shouldn’t. I think I might rather date you.

“She is great,” agreed Bones. He paused, not sure how to segue into the next thing he wanted to say. “Hey, Jim?”

“Huh?” Kirk was checking his PADD for emails.

Bones put his hand on Kirk’s thigh. “Would you mind—”

Kirk put the PADD down, staring at Bones’s hand. There was a flicker of something in his eye, as if he had changed his mind. He looked oddly resigned.

“Haven’t had any action in a while?” he said blandly.

“You’re the third person I ever kissed, Jim. Can you blame me?”

“Good to know I’ve influenced you so badly.” Kirk moved towards him. Bones felt goosebumps on his arms.

“Kiss me, you idiot,” hissed Bones, grabbing Kirk by the back of the neck.

“Yes, Doctor,” whispered Kirk, licking the soft inside of Bones’s lips. Bones couldn’t stand it. He surged forwards, devouring Kirk’s mouth, fucking Kirk’s lips with his tongue. 

Bones pressed Kirk back onto Kirk’s bed, straddling him, trying to ignore how submissive and quiet Kirk seemed. Bones wasn’t hesitating, now. He tore at Kirk’s shirt, ripping the collar as he tugged it off, and sat up to take off his own, Kirk panting underneath him. He came back down, kissing Kirk hard, fumbling at Kirk’s pants.

He felt the limpness in Kirk’s muscles, the way Kirk pushed at him weakly and kissed him back tentatively. All of it was in stark contrast to Kirk’s tent-pole erection. Bones got the zipper down and brushed him through his boxers, ghosting his thin fingers up Kirk’s length, and Kirk arched automatically, eyes wide and dull. Bones stopped, pulling back, glaring at the boy laid out before him.

“What is it?” he growled into Kirk’s ear, a fist in Kirk’s hair. “Dammit, Jim, what’s wrong with you tonight?”

“I don’t know,” said Kirk hollowly. He wasn’t looking at Bones.

Bones rolled off of him, eyes narrowed.

“You’re not excited about havin’ sex with me? Is that what it is?”

“I guess,” whispered Kirk. He closed his eyes tightly.

Insulted, Bones got up and pulled his shirt back on.

“If you wouldn’t be such a goddamn slut, shit like this wouldn’t happen,” Bones snapped, throwing the words at Kirk. They hit hard, and Kirk curled up a little.

Bones sighed disgustedly and left the room and the house, dragging his parents with him.

While Winona cleaned up the kitchen, Kirk laid in bed, in the same position Bones had left him in. He liked Bones, it turned out; but Bones had just reminded him—had just reminded him of—

He clenched his teeth, pushing the memories back. He felt like he was about to break.

x

Spock was picking up dinner from Suzy’s. He had a lot of homework that night and Amanda had gone to visit one of her friends in L. A. Sarek had passed responsibility for supper onto Spock, strongly recommending to his son that he make or obtain baked potatoes. Which led to Spock hovering near the Suzy’s pick-up counter, waiting for his meal.

He glanced through the trellis blocking the counter from the restaurant and saw half of a familiar face. He moved back, so that the trellis was no longer in his way, and saw Sulu sitting with Chekov not too far from him. The restaurant was quiet and Spock’s excellent ears could easily pick up what the two boys were saying.

Sulu’s expression was hovering on the verge of anger, but Chekov didn’t seem to notice.

“… and she said she was wery happy to meet me in detail, and I thought it was nice of her to greet me so cheerfully. And she inwited me back to her house and we had a wonderful time.”

“Did you,” said Sulu coldly, his nostrils flaring.

“Yes, wonderful,” Chekov repeated innocently. “She is wery talented with the oral sex, and I—”

“Okay, stop,” said Sulu, slamming his fist on the table. Chekov jumped, startled. “You had sex with Gaila.”

“Yes…? What is the matter with this? I haf heard it is her way of saying hello.”

“It is. But. God, Pavel. It’s Gaila. Everybody’s had Gaila. You couldn’t keep it in your pants for somebody special?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Never mind,” snarled Sulu. “I’m full. And I’m leaving. Bye.”

He slid out of the booth and walked away, leaving a shocked Chekov in his wake. Spock turned his face slightly to face the wall as Sulu stalked by.

Fascinating, thought Spock, watching Chekov begin to cry over his dinner. He considered attempting to comfort the boy, but his food had arrived, and he took it and left without a second glance at Chekov.

x

Thursday night

x

“Scotty got the plans approved.”

“Did he? How do they look?”

“Beautiful. He was showing them to Spock during study hall.” Chapel took a drink of Dr. Pepper. “The thrusters are going to be about four times as powerful.”

“Awesome. More work for us, then. I’ve got tennis all next week. And a boyfriend.”

“Still starry eyed?”

“Glittering.” Uhura swirled her soup with her spoon. “I am utterly ridiculous, let me tell you.”

“Oh, you don’t need to tell me. Hey, did you notice Hikaru ignoring Pavel today?”

“Yeah, I forgot to mention—Hikaru found out about Gaila and Pavel.”

“He didn’t know already?”

“Nope. He had the worst reaction. Spock was telling me about it. Evidently he saw the whole thing last night at Suzy’s. Hikaru just left, in the middle of dinner.”

“How unreasonable!”

“I know, but love is crazy, isn’t it?”

“Totally fucking insane.”

Uhura laughed. “Humans don’t make any sense at all. The only way for us to win is not to play.”

“Says you.”

“What, you think love is winnable?”

“You think it’s about winning and losing?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Just—a successful relationship is one in which somebody dies. Doesn’t that seem strange?”

“Not really. If you’re happy when the game is over, you’ve won. It’s been worthwhile. I thought you were a hopeless romantic.”

“Yeah, but in the tragic sense. I have become less hopeless of late.”

“Spock’s not making you worse?”

“I have him now. I don’t have to angst. It’s just—it’s really great being in love. You get to feel all these intense emotions that you don’t get to feel otherwise. You can have the whole range of it—despair, elation, rage, obsession—and if you’re really lucky, sex gets tossed into the equation.”

“So, you’re an emotions-whore. That totally explains why you’re dating a Vulcan.”

“Well, Monty was telling me their emotions are—different. They have to be logical or they’re totally irrational; their passions rule everything.”

“Intense. So, what, you’re trying to break him?”

“Break him? I’m not trying to do anything but learn him. I wouldn’t harm a hair on his head.”

“What if he asked you to?”

“What?”

“Well—if he told you to hurt him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kinks. Fetishes. Deep down dirty dark.”

“You are so creepy.”

“What a twenty-first century thing to say. Come on, I know you like ball gags.”

“But do you have to say it so loudly? We’re in a public place.”

“What, BALL GAGS?”

“Shut UP.”

“Okay, sorry. See, this is what I’m talking about. You have an emotional kink. Have you considered what his kinks may be?”

“Yeah, no, but what does that even have to do with anything?”

Chapel looked frustrated. “Never mind. You’re so dumb.”

“You bitch.” They were quiet. “Want to watch a movie at my house?”

“Sure. Let’s go.”

x

Sulu showed up at Chekov’s door, a repentant expression on his face. Chekov ushered him inside and to the dining room table. He had made fish soup, pelmeny, and apple pastries. 

“I want to apologize for whatewer it is I did to hurt your feelings,” said Chekov, sitting Sulu down at the table. Sulu sprang back up again, stammering apologies.

“No, I’m so sorry,” he said to Chekov. “I shouldn’t have freaked like that. I just—I guess I’m protective of you.”

“Eweryone is protectiwe of me,” said Chekov angrily, his curly hair falling over his eyes as he looked down. Sulu brushed it out of the way.

“Of course we are. You’re a wonderful friend, Pavel,” said Sulu sincerely. “Now, you can screw whoever you want to, as long as they don’t hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t understand earlier. I’m just not good with one night stands.”

Chekov hugged Sulu tightly, surprising him and forcing the air from his lungs.

“I am glad to haf you, Hikaru,” he said, looking up at Sulu. “Now, do you want dinner? I haf made it myself.”

Smiling, Sulu sat back down, Chekov next to him. Sulu decided he could take his time.

x

“This is the boy I was telling you about, dear,” Amanda whispered in Sarek’s ear as they walked up the pathway to Kirk’s house. 

“Is he,” said Sarek, raising an eyebrow. “I shall watch him closely, then.”

Winona greeted Sarek formally. Kirk blinked at Spock’s father, immediately intimidated. Sarek was not as harsh to Kirk as he was to Uhura, but he talked to Kirk more, and did not allow Kirk to feel comfortable until Winona fetched dessert.

Kirk and Spock had architected an uneasy truce during study hall that day so that they could dine together without attempting to bite each other’s heads off. But they bickered lightly despite the agreement instead of having an actual conversation.

“You mean you think the crystals have to go next to the primary? But that doesn’t even make sense. You don’t lose anything in the radium coils.”

“In hovercar racing, the finish sometimes comes down to fractions of seconds, James. The milliseconds lost between the crystals and the thrusters could easily be regained.”

“Don’t patronize me—fractions of seconds. We can’t move the crystals closer to the primary. The heat is too high.”

“If we obtain an archanite shield—”

“Those are so cheap and we’re on such a huge budget. Are you actually crazy?”

Spock did the Vulcan version of rolling his eyes, which was subtle, but Kirk could see it. They started off again, ignoring their food in favor of conflict.

Amanda winked at Winona. Then she had to kick Sarek under the table to keep him from asking about the purpose of the gesture she had just executed. Like father, like son.

x


	14. Chapter Fourteen: The Squire of Gothos

It was not a good day.

The Hoverclub were resting around the remains of the Enterprise, exhausted and covered in grease. It was seven o’clock on Friday night and all of them, even Spock and Scotty, wished they were somewhere else. Only Pike was still standing, leaning bonelessly against the pillar framing the entrance to the shop garage. They were quiet except for heavy breathing.

Scotty let out a long breath. “Shall we start again, youse? The hull’s goin’ t’ be impossible for less than eight t’ remove.”

Everybody groaned. Kirk jumped up and helped people their feet, avoiding Bones, who stumbled upright on his own. They gathered around the back of the hovercar, accepting the tools that Scotty passed around silently. Spock took the Phillips laser and bent down, jimmying it into a slot near the license plate holder. (The unharmed license place, a remarkably tough piece of metal, had been removed, cleaned, and hung on the wall.) Scotty nodded and everyone wrapped his or her fingers around the rim of the hull plate, straining upwards. Spock activated the laser.

It took another fifteen minutes, but they finally got the hull off. Scotty backed away, wiping his hands. “I’ll have t’ work on a stronger alloy,” he said. “This metal keeps warpin’ from th’ heat.”

“Perhaps magnetized steel and gurian?” Chekov recommended, straightening from placing the hull on the floor.

Pike stepped forward. “Gurian is much too expensive,” he said. “You’re as bad as Spock, Pavel. At least you’re not recommending archanite.”

“Mr. Pike, archanite would be ideal for the purposes—”

“Spock, archanite costs thousands of credits per cubic foot. The administration has given us a generous budget, but unless we want to scrap the rest of the ship, we can’t buy any archanite, much less enough to cover the entire primary.”

Spock frowned. “Perhaps we could acquire enough funds to purchase the needed materials.”

“Including the gurian,” Pavel said quickly.

“Including the gurian,” said Spock, “which, I believe, is even more crucial to the design than the archanite.”

“We could go to Gothos,” said Chapel. Everybody looked at her. “You know, the metallurgy company that contracts for Starfleet. They might offer us an—an educational discount, or something.”

“Not a bad idea,” said Pike. “I’ll check in to it. Meanwhile, let’s start deconstructing this engine. Scotty, are you ready to trash the hydrogen?”

“Ah am, sir,” said Scotty, grinning. “Never liked th’ stuff. Let’s shift it, lads.”

They spent the next hour disemboweling the belly of the Enterprise. Each part had to be removed from its casing, assessed, repaired or replaced, and cleaned before it could be fixed back in the hovercraft. They weren’t going to get much done tonight. It would probably take fifteen more nights before they would finish, not counting whatever they had to do with the new casing and cockpit interior. The second race was in twenty-one days. They would be cutting it very close.

The next day was Saturday. Scotty convinced them to show up at nine to continue the deconstruction. Spock said he would be there at seven, which made Scotty’s eyebrows shoot into his hair. They bargained it down to eight, Scotty still muttering about crazy Vulcans not needing any sleep. Pike, who had to be there at all times to supervise construction, bit back an anticipatory yawn.

To make matters worse, Bones sat bolt upright in a bed not his own the next morning. He stared straight ahead, well aware of the snoring, naked form beside him. 

Goddammit, he thought, his heart attempting to beat its way out of his bare chest.

He steeled himself, took a breath, and looked.

Yup, he thought grimly. That’s who I suspected it was.

His companion rolled over, snuffling into a pillow. It was Scotty.

x

“Fuckin’ alcohol,” growled Bones, clutching his head, which was throbbing gently. The floor of Scotty’s room was littered with beer bottles and blueprints. Evidently they had been going over the plans for the Enterprise. Bones didn’t know; neither of them could remember a thing. But judging by the condoms in the trashcan and the soreness in their muscles, something had happened.

Scotty, predictably, had already shrugged it off, which was driving Bones absolutely insane. The man was sitting there like nothing had happened! Sure, it wasn’t Scotty’s first time with a man, but it was sure his, and he was damned if he was going to let Scotty ignore it.

They were talking—well, Scotty was talking, and Bones was doing some yelling—when Scotty’s PADD buzzed.

Bones caught a look at the screen before Scotty could snatch it away. It was a text from Uhura.

“Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,” whispered Bones. “Did you tell Nyota?”

“Nay,” said Scotty, not meeting his eyes.

Bones flipped out. “YOU. TOLD. NYOTA. She’s gonna tell everybody. Scotty, I’m goin’ to have to kill you.”

“Nay, you cannae, we have t’ finish th’ Enterprise!”

“Spock can do it on his own!” Bones reached strangling hands towards Scotty’s neck. “You demon.”

“Help!”

x

In reality, their hookup had been quite touching. Scotty had been worried about his precious hovercraft, and Bones had generously offered to take him out drinking. After about fourteen beers, Scotty had ended up crying on Bones’s shoulder about his concern for the ship while Bones patted his back drunkenly. Their natural recourse was total nudity, which they had attempted in the bar (they were that drunk), but they had been hastily thrown out. They hailed a taxi back to Scotty’s (the traumatized driver had to be paid extra) and settled down to business.

Of course, neither of them remembered any of this. All Bones knew was that his face was sticky, and what the hell did that imply, and was Scotty positive that he didn’t remember anything? (Even if Scotty did remember anything, he sure wasn’t going to tell Bones, not with a reaction like that from him.) After being chased around the kitchen table a couple of times, Scotty convinced Bones to back down and go take a shower. Bones acquiesced grudgingly and slammed his way into the bathroom. Scotty waited nervously for Bones to finish, cleaning up his room a bit and making sure his parents and siblings hadn’t been woken up by the commotion. When Bones got out, Scotty made sure to have his clothes ready. Unsurprisingly, Bones kicked him out of the room while he got dressed, so Scotty went to take a shower.

They were dressed by seven forty five. Bones elected to go with Scotty, figuring that only Spock and Pike were going to be there, and neither of them were likely to rib Bones about it. 

As it turned out, Uhura had roused everybody except for Kirk. When Scotty and Bones walked through the door to the shop together, Sulu and Chapel shot confetti at their heads. Bones nearly fainted. Scotty laughed uproariously. Spock merely looked detached. 

They got started pretty quickly on the Enterprise since Bones absolutely refused to speak or make eye contact with anybody and Scotty, utterly incorrigible, could only talk about how much work there was to be done. Everybody except for Bones noticed that Chapel was being frosty to Scotty. Bones was too busy brooding and dropping tools on his toes.

Kirk, who had been informed of the incident, appeared at nine. He had been invited to show earlier but was still feeling strange about Bones. He couldn’t help but put a hand on Bones’s shoulder, though, trying to comfort him. Bones shivered when he felt Kirk’s hand and gave Kirk a rare, unreadable glance before returning to the components before him.

Since Kirk had arrived, Pike felt it was time to make the announcement.

“I got us an appointment with a manager at Gothos,” he said, smiling. “They have plenty of what we need and are evidently quite willing to part with it at a discounted price. We’re going at one thirty, after lunch.”

Spock nearly smiled. Everybody else cheered.

They didn’t know too much about Gothos; nobody did. The factory was located a few miles from San Francisco proper, hidden between some hills. The entrance was famous: Gothos had basically walled off the area between the hills with old-style rock. Arches were built in the wall that allowed passage to and from the factory. The entryways were protected by force fields that checked the identity whoever passed through them. Gothos was a primary cutter of diamond-edged tools, and so the Federation had allowed them such strong security.

They took the school transport out to the factory, parking it in a visitor’s garage through the arches. A security android directed them inside through the main steel doors, which were also framed by a stone arch. Another android, a secretary, brought them to a luscious waiting room and told them it was very sorry but it would be a half an hour before they could see William Trelane, the manager Pike had spoken of.

Kirk couldn’t resist exploring. He got up, ostensibly to find a bathroom. Chapel, to his slight dismay, came with him, but as soon as he said what he was up to, her face lit up and she declared her intentions to go with.

There were no humans in the halls. Evidently all of the office assistants were androids, well made but with the required display of robotic innards to prove that they were not human. Most of them had their synthetic flesh removed on their necks, but the security guards, who wore turtleneck uniforms, had no hair, just a glass casing over the innards of their skulls. 

Kirk disliked androids and avoided them. Chapel, meanwhile, had never been around so many at once, and had a doctor’s interest in studying their movement. Kirk had to drag her away from one that was working on the gear components in its arm. The androids took no notice of them, not even the security androids, whom Kirk had expected to question them about their authorization.

They reached a viewing room and saw their first humans. A short man and a redheaded woman dressed in work-professional were talking quietly in front of a large pane of glass that overlooked the factory floor. Kirk and Chapel tried to move back when they entered the room, but the man saw them, and turned.

“Can I help you?” he said, not unkindly.

“Uh,” said Kirk, wishing he’d brought a change of clothes like everybody else. His shirt was covered unattractively in grease and sweat, his thin jacket doing little to hide the mess.

“Um, yes,” said Chapel, who could see that Kirk wasn’t going to be any help. “I’m sorry, we were here with our teacher to talk to Mr. Trelane about parts for the hovercar we’re building, but we seem to have gotten lost. Can you direct us to his office?”

“Yes, of course,” said the man. “Wait just a moment, June. If you go—”

There was a sudden, horrible noise from the factory floor. The man whipped around, dashing back to see what was happening. The woman had whipped out her communicator and was talking rapidly into it.

“Observation here. Model echo whiskey forty seven did not take the uplink, repeat, model echo whiskey forty seven, automation broken. The robot is destroying part of the assembly. Security units to factory floor.”

“Damn,” growled the man. “We should have scraped forty seven when it first gave us trouble.”

The woman, June, glared at him. “We spent millions of credits prototyping that line,” she snapped. “I wasn’t about to authorize its destruction just because it wouldn’t take to its programming.”

Her communicator squawked. “Floor here. Echo forty seven attempting to destroy security androids. Can’t you override this?”

“IT should be working on it.”

“IT’s electricity flickered a couple of minutes ago, they’re trying to get back online!”

“What? But—they’re the ones—”

Kirk and Chapel watched as the man and the woman were swarmed by androids. They gave out fast, professional instructions. Kirk and Chapel snuck forward until they could see what was happening on the factory floor.

A large, blocky-looking robot painted a deep red had swung itself out of a furnace pit and was beating on another machine nearby. The security androids surrounding it were a fifth of its size, and the devices they were using to try to restrain or deactivate it didn’t seem to be working. 

“Observation to IT. Hurry up!” June snapped.

“Ma’am, we’re uplinking as fast as we can, but it’s going to be ten minutes at the best.”

“We don’t have ten minutes! Forty seven is trying to detach its anchor! Can’t one of you go to a working computer?”

“The IT building is too far away, it would be useless to try and make it. And nobody else in this damn facility can program, so we couldn’t even explain to you what you needed to do.”

“I can program,” said June defensively.

“Not really,” said the IT person. “You’re a designer, not a computer engineer. You don’t know Pinstripe, do you? You’ve got security access, but the subframe code is very complex.”

“I could try. In fact, I have to try.” June gestured to two nearby androids. They walked to a pillar in the middle of the room and opened a panel on its side. The panel broke in half, retracting into the ceiling and the floor, revealing a computer panel. June rushed over to it. “Okay, I’m in the mainframe.”

The rogue robot struck an incredible blow to its anchor, shaking the whole facility. Back in the waiting room, Pike flipped his communicator open.

“Pike to Kirk. Are you safe?”

“We’re fine,” said Kirk. “Gothos is having issues with a robot.”

“Issues? That sounds like an understatement.”

“Oh, it is. We’re in an observation room, near—”

He was interrupted by June’s snarl. “Explain what the strate is, then.”

“It’s the active layer in Pinstripe,” said Kirk, trying to be helpful.

June stared at him. “You a programmer, kid?”

“I’m not bad,” said Kirk.

“Get over here,” June said. “You know Pinstripe?”

“Yeah…”

She shoved him in front of the computer and handed him her communicator. “Go.”

“Uh. Okay. Er, Kirk here, tell me what to do.”

“Who?”

“Tell him what to do,” June said dangerously into the communicator.

“Alright, keep your pants on…”

Chapel kept Kirk’s communicator open. In the waiting room, everybody had tuned in to the same channel, listening intently to the IT person’s instructions to Kirk. When the IT couldn’t explain a concept that Kirk needed to know, Spock broke in. “Think of it in terms of Perl.”

“Oh wow, that makes sense,” said Kirk, starting to type again. Sulu and Chekov also interrupted at various points to clarify. 

“Who are you guys?” the IT demanded, but June shushed him.

In five minutes, the program was ready. “Upload,” said the IT.

Nothing happened. The robot continued to beat mercilessly on its extremely battered-looking anchor.

“Uh,” said the IT. “Upload?”

“Yeah, it didn’t work,” said Kirk, staring at the screen.

“Wait jus’ a second,” said Bones unexpectedly. “Is all this based on neurotronics?”

“Yes,” said the IT. “Why?”

“And your neurotronics specialist is gone today?”

“He’s home with Ankaran flu,” said the IT. “How’d you know?”

“Upload it through the second cord,” said Bones. “The, uh… the kalate?”

“The kulot, yes,” said the IT. “But that won’t do any good, the kulot’s just a back up—”

“Do it anyway,” said Bones. 

“The what now?” said Kirk, totally lost. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s a neurotronics thing,” said Chapel. She pointed to a line of code. “Lock into that one, then upload.”

“Alright…” said Kirk doubtfully, obeying.

There was a pause as the computer processed the request. And then there was silence from the factory floor as the rogue robot stopped mid-swing.

“Wow,” said Kirk. “Thought you guys were doctors, not programmers.”

“We can be both,” said Chapel, grinning. “Neurotronics is a robotic technology based on human neurosystems. Handy, huh?”

“Extremely,” said Kirk fervently.

“Okay, I’m impressed,” said the IT. “Seriously, who are you guys?”

“High school kids,” said June, taking the communicator from Kirk. “They were here to see Bill about parts for their hovercar. Am I right?”

“In one,” said Chapel. 

“Tell me what you need,” said June, “and you’ve got it.”

“In addition,” the IT chimed in, “any of you guys want a job?”

x

“This is likely t’ be the best day o’ me life,” said Scotty, stroking the archanite shield fondly. “And the hull’ll be finished in—how long did she say?”

“Two days,” said Sulu.

“I’ll bring it over,” said Kirk, who had accepted the job offer immediately and now was a part-time programmer. “It’s nice having a corporation like Gothos in your debt, huh?”

“Wery nice,” said Chekov. He held up a microchip. “Where does this go, Hikaru?”

“Right there, in the slot next to the gold wires,” said Sulu, pointing. 

Kirk was working with those gold wires. Chekov’s hand brushed his as he maneuvered his part into place. Kirk glanced up at him.

Chekov smiled, a shiver running up his arm.

Bones, meanwhile, was busy avoiding everybody, especially Scotty, who, regarding the previous night, had mentioned remembering “somethin’… about a pair o’ handcuffs, maybe?” earlier in front of the entire group, causing a scene. Chapel tried to talk to him about neurotronics but he wouldn’t look her in the eye. Finally she’d had enough.

“Why are you so worked up about this?” she hissed, drawing him into a corner. “Look at me. What? What is it? Are you actually homophobic or something? Are you ashamed?”

Bones drew himself up. “Of course not!”

“Well then, what’s wrong with you?”

Bones looked her squarely in the eye. “I don’t take sex lightly,” he growled. “If I’m interested in you that much, then it really means somethin’. But this was totally different—I don’t like Scotty; I don’t want to pursue a relationship with him. But it happened anyway, and I feel like I’ve betrayed myself.”

“Oh,” said Chapel, backing down a bit. “Well, that makes sense.” She paused. “How many sexual partners have you had, anyway?”

“Three,” growled Bones. “As of last night. See?”

“Quite,” said Chapel. “Er, who’s the third?”

Bones gave her a look that said, How dumb are you? “Gaila. Who else?”

“Oh. Obviously,” said Chapel. “Sorry I even asked.”

They were quiet. Chapel put her hand gently on his arm.

“It’s okay, you know,” she said. “To lose control sometimes. You don’t have to keep everything in you so tight.”

“I know,” said Bones. “But I’ve lost control before. I don’t want somethin’ like that to happen again.”

Before Chapel could ask what he was talking about, Bones had pulled away and gone back to the Enterprise.

x


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Shore Leave

It was Sunday night of the next week, and everybody was at the Shore Leave, nursing drinks. They had worked on the hovercar all day. Even Scotty was so tired that he wasn’t constantly talking about the plans he had for it. A couple of non-Hoverclub members were there, including Gaila, Janice Rand, Gary Mitchell and Elizabeth Dehner, Kevin Riley, Helen Noel, and Ruth Bonne, who Kirk had been in love with in elementary school. Now, though, she was a committed lesbian, which saddened him greatly, although he cheered himself up by asking if he could watch. The slap was worth it.

At nine, Kirk drew Bones to one side. Kirk felt strange around Bones, now. He hadn’t liked the way Bones had attacked that night last week. He didn’t mind being used for sex—well, he did, but… it was complicated. Sex was great. It was sex, how could it not be great? But he had been reminded of a time when sex hadn’t been great, when it had been terrifying because it was new and wrong and strange, but he’d done it anyway. He had felt that creeping sensation coming over his body again when Bones had kissed him, like he was just going to do it, not enjoy doing it.

Bones looked guilty. Kirk’s skin crawled as Bones’s fingers accidentally brushed his elbow. They had moved out of the small, main light to a corner table, dimly lit.

“Listen,” said Kirk. “I’m sorry I was so weird last Wednesday. But—I was just—” He shook his head. “I don’t know. It just didn’t seem right. I like being with you, don’t get me wrong, because I think I even sort of like you, but you just—you sort of handled it wrong, no offense, but you didn’t ask me, you just assumed—”

“Alright,” said Bones, throwing up his hands. “I know. I’m sorry, Jim, I really am. But—I guess I had gotten this vibe from you about you being okay with it. And I felt—really voracious, that night. Like I couldn’t stand it anymore. I objectified you and I apologize.”

“I was okay,” said Kirk. “I’m not sure if I still am, though. I know the feeling, like you just have to stick your dick in something.” He grinned, breaking the tension of the moment. “It honored me that I had been chosen to be the recipient of said dick, but the recipient really ought to be asked.”

“I know,” said Bones, looking ashamed. “I’m really sorry.”

There was an awkward silence. Kirk tapped his foot, wishing he could speak to Bones. He considered saying something about how he’d never noticed how blue Bones’s eyes were before, or the way his hair stuck up in the strangest places, or the freckles scattered across his arms…

“Heard you slept with Helen,” said Bones, not really knowing what to say.

“Yeah, Tuesday,” said Kirk listlessly. “She’s great. Really sweet. Kind of insane, too.”

“Seems steady to me.”

“Well, in that she’s so into psychology. She was saying the weirdest things while we were sixty-nining.”

“Why would you tell me that? Why?”

Kirk perked up. “What, you’re not interested in oral? It’s—Bones, it’s the best. I think it’s my favorite position.”

“You would think so.”

“God, man, have you tried it?”

Bones sipped his iced tea, nose wrinkled. “I’m not a sex toy.”

“Okay, seriously. Let’s do this right now. I mean, you don’t even know.” Oh man, thought Kirk. I would just love to go down on Bones.

“Please stop. My disgust isn’t mingling well with my hard-on.”

“You are a man of many emotions.”

“All of them contradictory, let me assure you. Jim, why do you sleep with so many people?”

Kirk was taken aback. “What? Uh, because it’s fun?”

McCoy raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Jim. You haven’t thought about it? It’s your defining characteristic.”

Kirk had definitely thought about why he slept with so many people, and he knew why, but he wasn’t about to tell Bones. He didn’t plan on telling anyone. But for some reason, he’d never really expected anybody to ask him about it. None of his psychologists were aware of his reputation—they didn’t care enough to talk to his teachers or peers—and so sex had never come up before.

He decided to tell the truth a little. “I dunno. Maybe intimacy.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Well, I always—I never knew what to do with people. You know, I could only ever read them for my own benefit. And then, when we were in Iowa, my mom was off planet all the time, and it got—it got really hard for me to identify with other humans, and I got really detached. I had depression, actually. I got better as soon as I started sleeping around. It was the physical contact, I guess.”

“That’s pretty analytical of you, Jim,” said Bones, not entirely fooled. “I remember you bein’… different, after a while, after you moved, but I figured it was just you growing up.”

“It was that, too,” said Kirk, holding his glass tightly. “Unhappiness does things to you, ages you. I feel much older than I am.”

“I’m sorry,” said Bones, frowning in sympathy. He reached out to touch Kirk’s hand. This time, Kirk felt warmth and concern, and some tingles. He smiled at Bones, sweetly, and Bones smiled back, just as sincere.

x

Gaila was standing on a table, entertaining everybody with a story about how she’d been cornered by some girls a few years ago who were offended by her habit of sleeping with anything that breathed.

“They called me a slut, among other things,” she said, brushing her copper red hair out of her eyes. “And I just said, ‘What, that’s your term for enthusiastic sexuality? Come on, I’m an Orion,’ and then one of them had the gall to say I should have been kept in the slave trade, so I got suspended for a week for violence against a peer. Her face never really looked the same. See, I’m fine with insults about my sexuality, but my heritage?” She made a face. “Bitches. I made sure to sleep with all of them later, out of spite. I’ve never had so much fun doing orgasm denial.”

Kirk and Bones had come back from their talk. 

“Can you do anything about your hormones?” Kirk asked. “Not that you’d want to, I guess.”

“Lots of Orions on Earth or in Starfleet take supplements to keep their hormones at a human level, but my philosophy is that it’s my body and I can do whatever I want to with it. Of course, from that argument, it influences your bodies—I mean, I’ve slept with (almost) all of you at one time or another—but, be honest, did anybody dislike the experience?”

Everybody but Spock shook his or her head emphatically.

“See? No harm, no foul, to borrow an idiom. I do good works.” She grinned widely. “Monogamy is not the way to go.”

“Aye aye,” said Scotty, raising his cup in a toast. They exchanged winks.

“It’s not that bad,” said Gary Mitchell mildly, his arm around his girlfriend Elizabeth Dehner. “I mean, we break it for the occasional threesome or swing party, but you’d be surprised how amazing sex with the same person can be.”

Gaila shook her head. “I’ll take your word for it. Variety is the spice of life. You know, I really love English.”

“The language has its moments,” agreed Elizabeth. “Gaila, don’t you get tired of switching from one person to the other all the time?”

“Don’t analyze me the same as you would anybody else,” Gaila warned. “I’m just different from you humans. Right, Spock?”

Spock looked up from his PADD. “Your genetic makeup does indeed deviate from our and their own.”

“‘Our and their own…’ What are you, then?” she asked him, slinking across the table and bending down to his face. “Human or Vulcan? I’ve slept with Vulcans before. They’re a passionate race.”

Uhura’s heart sped up, but something inside her knew everything would be fine. Indeed, Spock merely raised his eyebrow at Gaila’s approach. 

“Vulcan males are immune to Orion hormones,” he said calmly, “and my human side is easier to control than you think. The Vulcans you had intercourse with must have been inebriated or otherwise impaired.”

“Hey,” said Gaila, drawing back. “Ouch.”

“I do not mean to insult you, but to Vulcans, one-night stands are illogical. I doubt the Vulcans you had intercourse with were in full command of their facilities.”

“I can be logical,” said Gaila earnestly. “I pointed out that pleasure would be doubly achieved by our joining, and that no harm would be done, nor would any time be lost, since I can whittle the full treatment down to about an hour and a half.”

“Something tells me that it’s not just humans who think with their dicks,” said Kirk contemplatively.

“Actually, both of the Vulcans I slept with were female.”

There was a bit of a silence as everybody in the room took a moment to appreciate the image. Spock, irritated, cleared his throat. Everybody jumped, flushing. Gaila looked pleased.

“Distracted you guys a bit?” said Gaila coyly.

“A bit,” said Kirk hoarsely. “I would pay money to see that.” Uhura, eyes wide, looked like she agreed. 

“Human sexual responses are so interesting,” said Chapel distantly. “Males tend to be sexually aroused by female on female sexual intercourse, while for females, the opposite is true.”

“Gay is great,” said Kirk. “Who cares why? Please, Gaila, tell me more.”

“You had your chance,” she said, shrugging away from him. But she tossed him a melting smile over her shoulder despite.

“Tell me where to set up the altar to Kirk, God of Sex,” said Gary, leaning next to Kirk. Gary had been a close friend when they were young. He was Jim’s age, seventeen, but still a junior. He had short, thick black hair and a blunt, unkind face that often broke character to smile widely. 

“Anywhere’s good,” said Kirk. “I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to you. How’s life?”

“Going well,” said Gary, sipping his black coffee. “I’m enlisting right out of high school. They need psychics in the ‘Fleet.”

“Psychics?”

“My Esper rating is off the charts, evidently,” he said. “You know how some Vulcans are touch telepaths? That’s me, and then some. Liz too,” he gestured at his girlfriend, who was talking to Scotty, “but she’s not as powerful as I am.” He grinned.

“I never knew,” said Kirk, amazed.

Gary shrugged. “Didn’t happen ‘till I was thirteen. Something about maturity, they told me.” His communicator squawked, and he took the call, apologizing to Kirk.

Kirk got drawn into a discussion with Spock, Helen, and Scotty about the Romulan situation. The Federation was currently negotiation with the Empire for trade rights and possible entry into the Federation at some future date. The Tellarites were up in arms over it, but the humans, Vulcans, and Andorians favored an end to skirmishes and fighting. Ezar, a Romulan Counsel, had begun the peace talks when he had visited Earth a few years ago. He had met and fallen in love with Barda, the Vice President of the Federation, a Vulcan. The Federation and the Empire had watched as Barda and Ezar courted, dated, and finally married, inviting increasing cordiality between the Empire and the Federation. Many Romulans were unhappy with the direction their government was going, but the Empire’s structure was hindering its growth. A bad food distribution system and droughts and catastrophes across the Empire had caused a severe food shortage, and prominent Romulans were muttering about trade with the Federation. The accord was close to being signed. 

“The accord is the only logical way to end the fighting and starvation,” said Spock. “The Federation ought to take this opportunity to negotiate with the Romulans. They never talk. It is incredible that we have come this far.”

Scotty looked incredulous. “They could jus’ be trickin’ us,” he said. “We’ve never had unauthorized contact with any o’ their planets. The food shortage could be constructed, and it’ll turn out all o’ this is a trap.”

“I am sure that possibility has occurred to the Federation,” said Spock. “You can be assured that they will do or have done sweeps of all known Romulan planets to establish the veracity of their claims.”

Kirk said, “If I were in charge, I’d bring the Fleet near the Romulan system for a while after the treaty was signed to make sure the Romulans didn’t try anything. And would say it was just to protect all of the new trading ships. I mean, the Romulans wouldn’t be too happy about it, but then we’d be safe. Still, my hunch is that they’re trustworthy. They have always kept their word, after all.”

“James, I cannot see you being in charge of anything, much less a military operation,” said Spock. “You have proven yourself to be a good programmer, but little else.”

“Harsh,” said Kirk, grinning at the unwarranted attack. “Thanks for the dodgy compliment, though.”

“It would be illogical to deny your technical prowess,” said Spock. “However, it would also be illogical to state that you are a good leader, as you have shown no previous aptitude for taking charge of a situation.”

Helen laughed. “Oh, he can take charge,” she said, a light in her eye. “Jim Kirk is a man of many talents, Spock. He’d surprise you. Other than being the sexiest guy I know, he’s also one of the most compassionate. And of course, you’re well aware that he’s first in the class.”

Spock’s eyes narrowed. “Intelligence alone does not imply an ability to lead,” he said. “Nor does a… a dominant sexual attitude. And compassion in battle can be a crutch.”

Scotty frowned. “Ah think Jim would be a great leader,” he said. “When we had t’ break into th’ race central cortex at Riverside, he took charge quite well. Ah’d choose him as a captain, if ah were given that choice.”

“Sweet of you,” said Kirk. “See, Spock? If I ever tried to mutiny, at least somebody would support me.”

“Well, if it were between you two, ah’d prefer not t’ take sides.”

“James, the point is moot. I would never allow you aboard any vessel of which I were in charge.”

“Oh, Spock. You’re too kind.”

x

It was cold and dark when they left. Out in the parking lot, Kirk paused by his motorcycle to look up at the stars. He heard footsteps approaching and glanced back. It was Bones.

“We might get to see some of those up close, some day,” said Bones softly into his ear. “Not that the idea appetizes me. Spaceflight is horrifyin’.”

“You’re such a romantic,” said Kirk, leaning naturally into Bones’s chest. Bones wrapped his arms around Kirk and kissed him on the temple.

“Listen, about earlier—this might be a stretch, but d’you think you need to learn more about bein’ in a relationship?”

Kirk felt his heart beat a little faster. “Practice makes perfect, I guess.”

“What d’you think about going out with me?”

Kirk turned to face him. “Really? You’d put up with me?”

“I’d be honored if you could attempt to stay monogamous for a while. Of course, I wouldn’t be too offended if you strayed, but I’m a one-person man, generally.”

“I can do my best,” said Kirk. “I’d love to be your boyfriend, Bones.”

The smile lit up Bones’s face. They kissed laughingly, lingering under the stars for a while.

x

Uhura called Chapel and told her as kindly as she could, but Chapel cried anyway. Spock walked into the room just as Uhura started speaking to Chapel, and snuck silently back out again, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

x


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Amok Time

“You and Bones, huh?” said Winona carefully, watching her son over the edge of her newspaper. Kirk had waited until last night, Friday night, to casually mention to his mother that he was dating Bones and had been for nearly a week now.

“Yup,” said Kirk, eyes fixed on the viewscreen hanging from the ceiling. A smile flickered around his mouth, which made Winona feel better. “Me and Bones.”

“I always thought you two would do well together.” Actually, she didn’t think that at all, but she wasn’t about to say so. To be perfectly honest, she had a horrible feeling that her son would never be happy in a relationship.

“I’m glad you feel that way. We’ve been through a lot together. I mean, I know it’s only been about six days, but it already feels—natural.”

“You were always talking about how strange it was, being in a relationship,” said Winona. She felt guilt spike through her and pressed it down. She hadn’t helped Jim one bit when it came to relationships. “You’ve dated, what, six people, officially?”

“One of them was Ruth, mom, she didn’t count.”

“Of course she did, honey! She was the true love of your elementary school years. And then—” Winona hunted through her mind for the list. “—Carol Marcus, Rohan Ansari, Gillian Taylor, Soren Nielsen, and now Leonard McCoy. You dated Carol for ages.”

“Six months, mom. That’s not too long.”

“And how long did you go out with Gillian for?”

“About a week. She left me for her biology tutor.” Kirk sighed. “Rohan and Soren were two months each.” He smiled when he thought of Rohan, who had been his favorite by far, but had also ended up being the one who cheated on him. Kirk thought this made a certain amount of sense, in a horrible way.

“But you’ve—known so many other people,” she said as lightly as possible. 

Kirk made a face at her, actually turning away from the viewscreen. “You could just come out and say that I’m promiscuous.”

“You’ve already had sex with Bones, then?”

“Mom! Why are you asking me that? Okay, one, you’re my mom, so I’m not telling you, and two, we haven’t been dating for that long, only seventy seven point four two eight percent of a week.”

“You’re trying to distract me with your math skills and it’s not working. You’re using protection, right?”

“Mom. Seriously.”

“As long as you’re being safe, honey. What exactly are you doing on your first date?” Since the past week had been spent in continued construction of the Enterprise, Kirk and Bones hadn’t had much of a chance to do couple-y things yet, including go on their first official outing together.

“I don’t know, but I guarantee you that it won’t involve a bed.” He saw her expression and backtracked hastily. “Not that we’re going to be humping in a public park or something! I tried to get him to go rock climbing, but he’s evidently afraid of heights, so we’re biking down to Golden Gate and then going to the gym.”

“The gym?” spluttered Winona. “You can’t go to a gym on your first date!” 

“Why not?”

“It’s not—romantic! Or appropriate! You should go to a museum or, or boating or—not the gym.”

“But… we want to go to the gym.”

Winona shook her head. “You boys are crazy. A gym… I took your father to a jazz concert on our first date.”

“I hate jazz.”

“That’s not the point, dear. The point is—”

“It’s nearly noon, mom, I should go get ready.”

“He won’t be here for another hour and a half!”

“I have to look perfect, and you’re lecturing me about how much I suck at dates, so bye.”

Winona laughed and waved Kirk off. But as she glanced back down at her newspaper PADD she felt her smile melt away. Not only was she still feeling bad about her poor boy, the article her eyes settled on was about the speculation surrounding Barda and Ezar’s child. She briefly considered going to the media—they needed money—but her pride pulled her as fast as the thought crossed her mind. Eleen might betray Pike, but she would never betray anybody. Not intentionally.

x

As he pushed his bike down the street towards the bus stop, Bones’s mind was going a mile a minute.

Shit, I should get Jim something. What should I get Jim? What could I possibly purchase for Jim that would be both romantic and sexy? Maybe some flavored lube? Oh God, no, that’s a bad idea, since I have to give it to him in front of Winona, because I’m getting him something to try to get on her good side, so, okay, must be mother-approved. What would any mother like for her son to receive from his new boyfriend? Um, um, um. … candy? No. That’s lame. A book? What the hell. I don’t have time to pick out a book. Shit, the bus is about to be here—fuck it, I’ll grab those.

Which was how Leonard McCoy ended up on the San Francisco public transit line with a gigantic bouquet of peach orchids.

The first thing he said when Kirk pulled open his front door is, “I didn’t mean to get so many.”

Kirk stared at the flowers. “Woah,” he said.

“Really, Jim, I’m sorry, but they were just right there next to the bus stop and I was thinkin’, ‘You know, Leo, you should really get Jim somethin’, he is your boyfriend an’ all,’ and so I just bought ‘em.”

“How many are there?”

“Uh, think the guy said… seven dozen?”

“Shit, Bones. I love you too.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? You bought me flowers. Here, let me try.” Kirk cleared his throat and adopted a scolding tone. “What the hell were you thinking, Bones? How dare you purchase plants for me? God, you’re so inconsiderate. I don’t know why I ever agreed to date you.” He couldn’t make it much farther; he started laughing. Bones, a grin sneaking over his mouth, started laughing too.

“Come in and I’ll put them in water, okay? And then we can go.”

“Sounds great,” said Bones, coming inside and kissing Kirk hello. He spotted Winona immediately. She was staring at the flowers.

“Hi, Ms. Lawrence,” said Bones carefully.

“Hello, Bones,” said Winona sweetly. “Nice orchids.”

“Thanks so much, ma’am. Found ‘em on Mission and couldn’t resist.”

Kirk disappeared into the kitchen to put up the flowers, leaving Bones and Winona alone in the living room. Winona took the opportunity to fix Bones with an ice-cold stare.

“You’re a smart kid,” she said, her voice positively dripping with menace. “Keep in mind that if you hurt my son in any way, shape, or form, I will make sure that they never find your body.”

Bones gulped.

Kirk reappeared from the kitchen and Winona hiked a large, slightly terrifying smile onto her face. “You two have fun,” she said cheerfully. 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Bones in a tiny voice.

“See ya, mom,” said Kirk, taking Bones’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly. “Thanks for the flowers. Really,” he told Bones as they left. “They’re beautiful. You’re so sweet.”

“Welcome,” said Bones gruffly. “It was nothin’.”

Kirk held up a paper bag. “I made us snacks!” he said as Bones strapped on his helmet and threw a leg over his bike, which he’d left leaning against the rickety front gate. “Carrots and celery and awesomesauce.”

“What,” said Bones, “the hell is awesomesauce?”

“It’s this… dip type stuff… that I invented a year or two ago.”

“You cook experimentally?”

Kirk shrugged. “On occasion. Uh, did mom try to kill you with her brain?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Sorry. I forgot she might do that. She’s kinda protective these days.” Kirk finished strapping his bag onto his bicycle and swung onto it. “Ready?”

“Ready. Bet I can beatcha to the park.”

“As if!” Kirk pushed off and shot down the sidewalk. Bones threw himself after him.

They cycled nearly three and a half miles to Golden Gate Park and ate Kirk’s vegetables and awesomesauce underneath the shadow of Murphy’s Windmill. It was nearly sixty degrees and windy, and Kirk’s light jacket was too thin, so Bones, muttering about being a human, not a heater, wrapped his arms around him as they lay back on the grass and talked. After a while, they got up and biked over to a free gym and lifted weights for an hour or two, then went out for dinner.

“I should go home,” said Kirk, leaning against Bones’s arm. It was dark now, and even colder. They were outside of the gym in a small public park next door, spread across a bench. Bones nodded and kissed Kirk deeply, holding his face tenderly in his rough hands. 

“Tomorrow? Early?” said Bones, fingers stroking the back of Kirk’s neck. “Lunch, maybe?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“At my house,” said Bones. “I’ll cook, I can show you.”

“I have no doubt you can,” said Kirk, kissing him goodbye. “See you tomorrow.”

“Eleven!”

“Eleven.”

Kirk, on his bike, threw Bones a kiss over his shoulder as he sped into the dark. Bones, sighing a bit, gathered himself and went home to agonize about cooking.

x

Spock and Uhura’s Sunday date, while it occurred in a nicer place, was not quite as romantic. They were both getting slightly behind on schoolwork because of the Hoverclub and various other (mainly physical) distractions, so they went to the San Francisco Public Library at nine thirty and worked nearly all day. 

As they were leaving the library at six, a tall, busy-looking woman in a suit ran straight into Spock, spilling her coffee all over him. 

Uhura, improvising, pounced.

“My house is closest,” she said, helping him sop up the liquid on his shoulder with a bunch of napkins. He had been wearing a white shirt, and the large stain made him look quite homely. “Come on, we can get you changed and then go out for dinner.”

“An excellent plan,” said Spock, frowning at the discoloration through glasses specked with drops of coffee. Uhura smiled and guided him to her car.

Okay, thought Uhura, starting the engine. This could work. This could maybe work.

They hadn’t even gotten to second base yet. Spock wasn’t kidding when he said he was wary about sexual contact. While he was an amazingly enthusiastic kisser, she surmised that he wasn’t willing to go any further with her. She’d brought it up a week ago, and he had said frustratingly that life was about journeys, not destinations, and then distracted her again. 

At her house, she directed him into her bedroom and started rifling through her drawers until she found a large enough shirt. He took it and was about to go into her bathroom when she put a hand on his forearm.

“You can change in here,” she said.

He looked at her.

Five minutes later, both of their shirts were off.

x

Bones ended up making Reubens for lunch the next day, which involved grilling, if not cooking. When Kirk had sunk his teeth into a particularly large area of sandwich, Bones popped the question.

“Wanna go to homecoming with me, Jim?”

Kirk’s eyes widened. He chewed for a while, quickly, trying to get to his answer.

“I completely forgot about it,” said Kirk. “That’d be fun.”

“Yeah, it will be, but, I have to admit, I’m asking mainly because the homecoming court nominations are out.”

“Oh,” said Kirk, not offended, just a little surprised.

“I’m one of the dukes,” explained Bones. “We’re all required to bring dates.”

“Aw, man, does this mean I have to be in the parade? And by the sidelines during the game?” The homecoming football game was on a Friday night, right after the parade, and the dance, where the king and queen were crowned, was on Saturday.

“Yup,” said Bones. “Sorry. Evidently I’m pretty popular.”

“Who else got nominated?”

“Hikaru, Gary, Liam Ferrolin, and Raj Rapali,” said Bones. “For the girls… Gaila, Ruth, Janice Lester, Miramanee Scharf, and Edith Keeler.” Kirk grinned; he’d slept with Janice Lester a few weeks ago.

“Who’s going to win?”

“Gaila.” Bones rolled his eyes. “And probably me, actually. Our peers’ll be biased, since the other sports don’t start ‘till November at the earliest. They’ll be goin’ from the homecoming game, where I play the role of the Handsome Star Quarterback, straight to the voting boxes. It’s a little unfair to the other members of the court.”

“I think you’ll make a wonderful Homecoming King. The glitzy borite crown, the fur-lined robe, the hot babe on your arm…”

“Did you just describe yourself as a ‘hot babe?’”

“It’s possible,” said Kirk, hiding behind his Reuben. “What? Deny it.”

Bones just laughed.

x

It worked, thought Spock, inhaling the scent of Uhura’s hair. Shariel, it actually worked.

He was sitting on her bed, holding her from behind, his hands massaging her breasts gently. She was making noises into his shoulder, little pleading sounds that tugged at the pit of his stomach. He pushed her down onto the bed and placed himself along the length of her, running his hands over her whole body. Her hands were clenched on his back, undoubtedly leaving nail marks along his spine. Her expression was at once tense and lax, as if she were paying all of the attention in the world to what he was doing, but trying to sit back and let it happen at the same time.

“Nyota,” he said into her ear. She opened her eyes. He pulled off his glasses and, folding the legs, placed them slowly on the bedside table before coming back to kiss her, keeping his eyes on hers as their tongues pressed against each other. She trembled, eyelids flickering. He ended the kiss. “What do you want?” he said, voice low.

She shook her head. “What do you want?”

He bit his lip. “I am not sure,” he said. “Can I—take a moment to discover my intentions?”

“You can do anything you want,” she said. “I’m game for whatever you’re game for.” She paused. “Do you want this?”

He raised his eyebrow. “I must admit that I placed myself before the woman with the coffee entirely on purpose,” he said dryly. 

“Did you really?” she grinned. “Oh, you are too cute.” She leaned forward to kiss him again.

His body decided for him. He blushed, embarrassed, and tried to move away from her, but she locked her hands around his back, her surprisingly strong arms pulling him short. He could have broken her grip, but he realized didn’t want to.

“You can have anything,” she reminded him, trying to soothe the wild look in his eyes. 

“I can’t,” he said, not meeting her gaze. He knew he was bright green with embarrassment. It was on her leg. Poor girl. She must just hate h—

Which was when Uhura reached down and ran her hand over the lump in his pants.

His jaw dropped slowly. He had gone completely still and was now staring straight at her.

So, logically, she did it again.

x

“Shit, Bones,” panted Kirk. “Just take off my pants already.”

“I like teasin’ you,” said Bones, glancing up from Kirk’s crotch. They had finished lunch a while ago and were in Bones’s room, breaking in the bed. He ran his tongue over the bulging fabric again. Kirk bared his teeth in a low growl.

That was hot, thought Bones. 

x

Did he just growl? thought Uhura. Dear God. 

Carefully, she found the zipper to his slacks and pulled down. He stiffened even more, which she hadn’t thought possible, and to her great dismay, moved his hands down to hers and pulled them away.

x

“Okay, sure, take your own pants off,” said Bones, rolling his eyes and getting his hands out of the way. Kirk was out of his jeans in two seconds flat and working at Bones’s pants now, which distracted Bones a bit. Okay more than a bit because Kirk had gotten Bones’s pants off was doing the same licking thing that he had done earlier to Kirk and he was never going to be able to think straight again in his life haha pun oh God Kirk actually had his hand around him through his underwear this might just be the best day ever.

x

Uhura’s brain was a useless lump of flesh at this point. Spock had removed both of their pairs of pants and was now running his fingers between her legs. She knew her underwear were completely soaked through, but Spock didn’t seem to mind.

And then his head disappeared out of her vision and before she could realize what he was doing, he had licked a stripe up her wet spot.

x

Bones’s jaw cracked as he opened his mouth in shock. Kirk had just licked him. That was it. That was absolutely it.

“Can the boxers go now?” pled Bones.

“They should have gone hours ago,” said Kirk, the sexiest damn smile appearing on his mouth.

x

To her surprise, Spock didn’t hesitate.

x

Neither did Kirk.

x

Afterwards, he moved level to her and lay down beside her. She was quite unable to speak. She was shocked at how good he’d been. He hadn’t been great, but dear Lord, he had sure known the theory behind what to do, and wasn’t half bad at putting his tongue to work in practice. She hadn’t expected to come, but there was something about his inexperienced persistence that had driven her suddenly over the edge. She had directed him, and he had been totally unafraid to do exactly as she said. He didn’t know the ground very well, but he had managed. Oh, how he had managed.

Finally, she decided she could attempt speech. She was curled in his arms, her ear against where his heart should be. He was trembling too as he stroked her back.

“Spock,” she said, turning to look at him. “That was beautiful.”

He smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “As you can tell, I had never undertaken that action before. I was pleasantly surprised by your physical response.”

“You were pleasantly surprised… I think—”

Spock sat up suddenly, ears perking. “There is a car in your driveway,” he informed her calmly.

She threw herself out of bed. “Dad! Shit! Clothes clothes clothes!”

x

“Estimate,” said Bones, “roughly the number of blow jobs you’ve given in your life.”

Kirk put on his thinking face. “I have no idea. Four hundred, maybe? Or five hundred?”

“God, man. No wonder you’re so good.”

They were propped up against the headboard, under a blanket to their shoulders, both having realized they were cold after Kirk was finished with Bones. Bones was running his hands over Kirk’s body under the covers. Finally, he made it all the way down to Kirk’s hard-on. He wrapped his hand around it, watching Kirk’s eyes roll up in his head.

“I can fix that,” Bones whispered in Kirk’s ear.

Kirk opened his mouth reply when Bones’s bedroom door opened. Both boys moved away from each other quickly, but there wasn’t much else they had time to do.

Ian poked his head around the door. He paused at the sight of them, his expression going flat, and tossed Kirk a flat, black object.

“Your communicator was beeping,” he said. “I expect to see both of you in the living room in five minutes.”

And he closed the door.

“Oh God,” said Bones, covering his eyes. Kirk remained frozen, hand wrapped tightly around the communicator. Finally he flipped it open and redialed.

“Oh hey, mom. Yeah. I think I’ll be home pretty soon.”

x

How they got their clothes on before Chane got up stairs, Nyota had no idea. But by the time he opened her bedroom door, they were sprawled on the floor with their physics homework in front of them, innocently working.

“Hey dad!” said Nyota.

“Greetings, Mr. Uhura,” said Spock solemnly.

“Hey, you two,” said Chane, smiling at them. He was, Spock thought illogically, about eight feet tall and seemed to be made of muscle. He had just gotten back from coaching a tennis lesson and was wearing a while shirt and shorts that showed off his incredible muscles to an amazing degree. “What have you guys been up to?”

“Physics,” said Nyota. “Want to tell him about the Hiralt theory of electromagnetic transmission, Spock?”

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” said Chane, laughing. “Don’t threaten a poor literature professor with science.” At the door he stopped and turned around, a very slight smile on his face. “Next time, Nyota, you might want to remember to put all of your clothes back on.”

And he left.

Spock and Nyota turned around slowly. Sure enough, lying across her white sheets were the pair of black underwear she’d been wearing earlier.

“Fuck,” said Nyota. Spock looked like he agreed.

x

Ian, Kirk felt, looked like he was about to choke a bitch.

David was trying to calm him down.

“They’re teenagers, for chrissake,” said David, his hand on Ian’s shoulder. Kirk and Bones were standing guiltily in the middle of the living room, as far away as they could get from each other. “What do you expect them to do when they’re home alone?”

“That is not the point,” said Ian. “Jim is seventeen and Leo is nineteen. They have done something illegal.”

“Are you gonna call the police, then?” said David. “Come on, let it go. Maybe you weren’t like that at their age, but I sure was.”

“Fine. No legal consequences,” snapped Ian. “But I want the two of you to understand this: You will not enter any bedroom in this house together again, without an escort. Leo, you will let me know if you are going anywhere with Jim, or if Jim is coming over. Jim, if this happens again, I will tell your mother.”

Kirk not intimidated by the threat, but he was intimidated by Ian, so he nodded quickly. 

“You may go,” said Ian coldly to Kirk. Kirk grabbed his bag and, hesitantly and quickly, kissed Bones goodbye.

“Good luck,” he whispered. “Call me if anything bad happens. Actually, just call me.”

“Can do, kid,” Bones whispered back. Kirk left.

“Room. Now,” said Ian. “I have to have a talk with your father.”

“And I have to have a talk with your dad,” said David.

Bones exited as quickly as Kirk.

x

Back at home, Spock set on the couch and rubbed I-Chaya’s stomach despondently. Amanda came and sat down next to him after she had put dinner in the oven.

“What happened, dear?” she said. “Did you and Nyota have a fight?”

“Not exactly,” said Spock, feeling his ears go green. “We just—” He shook his head. “It was nothing, mother.”

Amanda frowned. “Do you like Nyota?”

Spock blinked at her. “Of course I do,” he said, nonplussed. He was quite over Jim Kirk. “Why would you ask?”

Amanda shrugged. “I was just making sure, dear.” She patted his leg. “Did you get very much homework done?”

“Yes, a majority of it,” he said. He paused. “Nyota’s father is very kind,” he said slowly.

“Really?” said Amanda, wondering where he was going with this.

“He did not—he did not seem to mind—” Spock was very green now, and Amanda suddenly understood what he was trying to say.

“Oh, honey,” she said. “Did he walk in on you?”

“Yes,” said Spock, staring at I-Chaya, whose tongue was lolling out of his mouth all the way to the cushion. “It was… embarrassing.”

Amanda had thought she would mind when she found out that Spock had finally entered into a sexual relationship, but as it turned out, she didn’t. It occurred to her that she had simply been waiting for it to happen, and now that it had, she wanted to be there for him, not incensed with him.

“It’s good that he wasn’t angry,” said Amanda. “Very reasonable of him. It wasn’t, er, in flagrante, was it?”

“No,” said Spock, still watching the sehlat closely. “We have not… reached… that stage.”

“Good,” said Amanda. She turned Spock’s face towards her. “Listen, Spock, it’s okay that you’re telling me this. And it’s a good thing. I care very much about you, and I’m glad you trust me enough to confide in me.”

“I have no one else to tell,” he said. The confession made her heart hurt.

“You have Nyota,” she said gently. “I know it’s difficult, not having—not having friends, but you’re getting there.”

“I am,” he said. He looked so sad, in his restrained way. “But I wish I had realized what I missed earlier, so that now, when I needed people of my own age…” He trailed off. 

“Dear,” said Amanda, hugging him. “It’s alright. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

He never did cry. He called Uhura later and they commiserated, Uhura describing in humorous detail how awkward her dinner had been. Then she mentioned she was ignoring Chapel, who kept calling her, so he let her go, his heart hurting just a little bit more.

x


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Friday’s Child

The first time the Enterprise High hovercar team had been out on the racetrack in Riverside, they had been calm and collected. Their hover had been ready to run, their team members had been unhurried and prepared, and the day had been a bright and sunny one, a cheerful, sparkling morning full of hope and potential.

This day was a dreary, overcast hell of a Saturday afternoon in Los Angeles, and the Enterprise looked like shit. Its builders didn’t look much better. In fact, they looked exactly like their counterparts in the other hoverclubs nearby, dashing around their cars like cockroaches in a sudden light.

“This is bad,” said Sulu, who was splayed flat against the right outer panel of the hovercar, covered in grease and dripping a bit of blood from his eyebrow, working with an equally dirty Chapel to pry the stubborn gurian alloy off of one of the dilithium crystal casings to hook up some important wires. “This is very, very bad. It can’t be more than five minutes until they call us.”

Inside the hovercar, Spock and Chekov were working side by side to hook up the interior panels they hadn’t had time to connect. The handling screen was displayed prominently and had been put in before most of the outer body had been finished because of Scotty’s determination not to make the same mistake twice, but the other panels weren’t so lucky. Chekov had dropped one of the heavy plasma screens on Spock’s foot, nearly evoking a curse from the half-Vulcan. Spock was quite positive his two smallest toes were broken but since he wasn’t going to walk during the race and didn’t have time to get them healed, he simply bit his cheek in an attempt to ignore the pain. Chekov had pinched the skin of his forearm between the two parts of a hinge-panel and, like Sulu, was bleeding sluggishly, but he just pulled on his jacket so as not to get blood on the delicate displays and kept working, his small hands moving quickly and ably over the backs of the cool plasma screens.

Uhura, Bones, and Kirk were attempting to fix one of the thrusters, which had actually fallen off when they had driven the Enterprise out of the transport and onto the track. Bones and Uhura had heaved the thing onto their shoulders and were trying to be patient as Kirk fiddled with the connections, but both of them felt like their spines were about to compress at the atomic level. Bones was keeping up a quiet yet steady stream of dire curses and Uhura was muttering in Klingon, the most violent language she could think of.

Pike and Scotty were yards away, arguing with track officials about a large number of issues that seemed to have come up out of nowhere on the day of the race, such as the questionable legality of Kirk being near the track, the fact that the blueprints of the new Enterprise were judged to be slightly yet maddeningly different from the Enterprise they had brought with them, and the complaint the Pride High hoverclub had submitted against its Enterprise counterparts. The governing body of the competition, led by Dr. Eleen, approached. Pike fixed her with a cold stare. Scotty continued gesticulating to the battered-looking UCLA track official.

Kirk had driven up to Los Angeles earlier in the morning on his motorcycle in order to avoid the suspension, which stated that he was not allowed in the transport chartered for his hoverclub on the day before, the day of, or the day after a race. While he was allowed to spectate, he was not allowed on the track. Scotty continued to claim that the staging area was not a part of the track—“T’ meself, ‘track’ means ‘track;’ if it means somethin’ else to yourselves, then ah can’t comprehend what,” Scotty insisted. Pike took the track official aside and convinced him, by means of his alarmingly dire tone of voice, that the spirit of the blueprints remained intact on the new iteration of the Enterprise—“The Enterprise-A, if you will…”—if not the appearance. They had had to make some last-minute changes, all of which were painfully written out in the appendices of the blueprints. Finally the track official agreed to the plans and Pike returned to find Scotty holding his own against Dr. Eleen, who was treating the Pride complaint very seriously.

“Christopher,” said Eleen shortly in greeting. She grimaced and moved her hand to cover her stomach, but continued despite the flicker of pain that crossed her face. “Pride High has stated that they have deemed your school a danger to the competition. They cite your previous record of destruction—”

“Those laddies caused th’ destruction or damage of fully half of th’ field last race!” cried Scotty. “Dr. Eleen, you can’t possibly cite us for dangerous conduct.”

“Your school did not enter a complaint against Pride High,” snapped Eleen. “As such, your argument—”

“Dr. Eleen,” Pike slipped in smoothly. “Julie.”

She turned to him, eyes narrowed.

“You remember my wife, Vina?” said Pike. The other racing officials and council members looked confused, as did Scotty. “She rarely pointed out the wrongdoings of others, but when she did, she expected those others to take her complaint seriously. I feel that it would be courteous to honor her memory by keeping up her expectations and standards.”

Eleen scowled at him. Finally she said, “Fine. Pride High’s complaint is dismissed, taking rules excusing dangerous conduct into account. Enterprise High, your blueprints are hereby accepted as accurate representations of your hovercar’s construction. But you are required to move your suspended member into the common viewing area at this time, or have him escorted from UCLA property if he refuses to remove himself.”

“Two out of three ain’t bad,” said Pike coolly.

“A touching reference,” said Eleen. “However, it does not apply to the current situation.”

“I find it apt. Scotty, go tell Jim to wait in the common viewing area. Tell him to keep his communicator with him.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

When Scotty had left, Pike turned back to Eleen.

“It’s time we talked,” he said. “Follow me.”

x

Scotty came dashing up to the Enterprise. “Jim,” he called. “You have t’ leave. Dr. Eleen ruled against Pride and in favor of th’ blueprints, but she wouldn’t let you stay.”

“Fuck. Come up and finish the thruster, then,” sighed Kirk, climbing off of the hovercar. 

“Take your communicator!” said Scotty, scrambling up to Kirk’s perch. “Mr. Pike requested it.”

“In my pocket,” said Kirk, just as the loudspeaker clicked on. 

“Would the S through Z schools please make their way towards the starting line, pilots in hovers, sponsors leading and members following.”

From inside the hover, Chekov cursed. “Three more screens to go!” he called to Scotty.

Scotty worked quickly on thruster, screwing the bolts in place faster than Kirk could. By the time the moderator called the next set of hovers, Scotty was finished. He told Bones and Uhura they could move and leapt down, running over to the cockpit. “Help Hikaru with the wiring!” he told Bones and Uhura.

“Progress?” he demanded of Spock, sticking his head into the hover.

“I have finished the first panel and am assisting Pavel in mounting the second,” said Spock, voice strained. “The third we have not begun.”

Scotty twisted his torso around and scrabbled at the third panel, the race status monitor, one of the more important screens. Sulu shouted that the wires had been hooked in as the moderator called for the H to N schools. Spock and Chekov finished the second panel. Spock zipped up his flight jacket and started checking the systems as Chekov turned to help Scotty.

Bones, Sulu, Uhura, and Chekov patted down the exterior of the Enterprise. They were nearly alone in the staging area; three-fourths of the other hovers had departed and the remaining cars had already lined up in anticipation of being called. Seconds before the monitor summoned the A through E schools, Chekov tumbled out of the cockpit, tucking tools hurriedly into the belt he had looped over his shoulder. Uhura ran up to the window and kissed Spock. He kissed her back, deeply, and then drew away and closed the windows, watching her eyes as the dark screen of the window moved up her form. As she backed away, he turned on the hover. Everybody held their breath as the engine started; Scotty actually covered his mouth and hid slightly behind Bones. 

Inside the Enterprise, Spock was watching the recently installed screens with worry. The situation was bad. The Enterprise was not entirely finished. He suspected that its hastily-installed components might not last the race. But, as he wrapped his hands around the wheel, he felt confident. If anybody could steer the Enterprise to the next round, it was him. Spock allowed his ego to wash over him, his sense of superiority at being part-Vulcan amidst all of these humans wrapping around him, and knew that he would win.

Outside, everybody let out sighs of relief as the thrusters flickered blue. Spock twitched the impulse engines forwards and puttered towards the rest of the A through E pack, who were already heading towards the starting line.

x

“Before you start, Chris, hear me out,” said Eleen. They had walked into the middle of the large racetrack, a quarter of a mile in towards a small valley with a lake at its base. Eleen turned to Pike, scowling at him. “You had no call back there to bring up Vina.”

“I may do with Vina’s memory as I wish,” said Pike. Any other human would have fled from the hateful tone of his voice, but Eleen was made of stronger stuff than gurian, and had stood against Pike before, even if that before was almost twenty years ago. As she watched him, waiting for him to continue, she recalled meeting him for the first time.

x

“Come on, doctor. Out on Orthos you can do just about anything; Gothos has got a metallurgy plant out there you’d practically want to have sex with; it’s that perfectly stacked with the proper equipment. Starfleet will give you unlimited funding. Just spend six months on the Kelvin, working on the practical warp experiment, and you can do anything you want with starships, shuttlecrafts, and hovercars over on Orthos.”

Eleen raised a haughty eyebrow at the man talking to her, the first officer of the Kelvin, a Mr. George Kirk. He had heard quite a bit about her—as well he should have, considering he was a Starfleet officer and she had invented his precious shuttlecrafts—but she had never heard of him.

“I am disinclined to waste six months of my life on a Kelvin type starship, especially the prototype,” said Eleen distastefully. “The warp coils utilized on a Kelvin type are massive wastes of energy.”

“That’s why we want you onboard,” said Kirk with a smile, ignoring her attitude. They were pacing through Federation headquarters and had come to a stop at a fork in the hallway. Kirk stretched a hand to the right, politely motioning for Eleen to pass him. “Captain Robau’s offices are along this corridor. If you would—Chrissy!”

On the left hallway, a black-haired man in security red was standing at a door, talking to someone inside. He looked up at the sound of his name.

“Georgey,” he said, a distinct smile appearing on his clever face when he saw Kirk. “Fancy meeting you here. And who is this delectable lady you’re escorting?”

“Doctor Julie Eleen, Mr. …?” Eleen provided.

“Lieutenant Commander Christopher Pike, Chief of Security on board the Kelvin. Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Eleen. I see you’ve made the unfortunate acquaintance of my dear friend Mr. Kirk.”

“I have indeed, but thus far he has been most kind.”

“How uncharacteristic. Doctor Eleen—” Pike gestured, and two women exited from the room he had been standing before. “My wife, Lieutenant J.G. Vina Oliver, and Mr. Kirk’s wife, Ensign Winona Lawrence. Vina, Winona, this is Doctor Julie Eleen.”

Eleen shook Vina’s and Winona’s hands. Vina was a short, blonde woman with plump cheeks and bright blue eyes. She looked quite cheerful in contrast to Pike, who seemed ironic and arch. When she touched Eleen’s hand a blush covered her cheeks and she barely met Eleen’s eyes. Eleen decided she liked her.

x

When it became apparent that Pike was not going to continue, Eleen spoke.

“However painful it must be for you to realize this, Vina’s memory is not yours to preserve,” said Eleen harshly, moving so that she was close to Pike. Her hands were on her hips and there was a scowl plastered to her high-cheekboned face. 

“She left herself to me,” growled Pike. “I’ll have you know, Julie, that in the end I was her priority. She never said goodbye to you.”

“But that’s not the point, is it? I’m trying to remind you—”

Eleen broke off, gasping and clutching at her stomach. She stumbled backwards and Pike moved forward automatically, holding her arms and settling her back against a short splinter of granite batholith. She leaned heavily against the rock, eyes closed tightly. 

“The baby,” she panted. “Shit and damn, the baby’s coming. Chris, get paramedics—”

Pike fumbled at his pocket for his communicator and flipped it open. “Emergency, emergency. A woman has gone into labor. Over.”

There was a long moment of static, and then a broken reply. “Clarify,” said a crackling voice. “Citizen, your bzt -nal is weak. What bzt –ation?”

“UCLA hovercar racetrack, in the inner circle,” said Pike. “Can’t you lock onto my signal?”

“bzt –ference, move bzt –cation, over.”

“Repeat!” cried Pike. “Repeat!”

Static.

x

The hoverclub, three members down, was in the viewing area waiting for the race to begin. Bones flipped open his communicator and called Kirk.

“You in the common area?” Bones said, glancing around as if he might see him. “I ought to come watch it with you. Don’t want to leave you all alone.”

“Yeah, good idea, but hey, is Pike with you?”

“No,” said Bones curiously. “He left with Dr. Eleen before the race. I guess he was tryin’ to clear up some more stuff. What’s up?”

“Maybe,” said Kirk. “It’s just—I was fiddling around with my communicator, and I was on the 911 channel and I thought I heard him saying ‘Emergency.’ Where did he head off to with her?”

“Down back into the center of the track,” said Bones, nodding behind himself automatically even though Kirk couldn’t see him. “You goin’ after him?”

“We’re going after him.”

“You got a mouse in your pocket, Jim? He’s fine; he’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.”

“I’d rather not take chances,” said Kirk. “Plus, I’m bored. Please, Bones?”

Bones sighed. He couldn’t resist that pleading. “Alright. It’s not like I can do anythin’ useful here. I’ll meet you at the back entrance. Make sure not to go into the crew area or security’ll have your ass faster’n I would.”

x

As Kirk and Bones made their way to their way down the multi-tiered viewing area, Spock watched the four groups in front of him blast off from the starting line. This time, the Enterprise was in the final pack of ten, since it had placed second-to-last in the first race. There were fifty participants in this race, thirty-six of which would go on to the third of six stages of competition. The odds of finishing in the top thirty-six were good, but the Narada was in Spock’s group, which worried him, as did the condition of the Enterprise. But he pushed the worry away as the moderator counted down, finally giving the go. Spock hit the accelerator and the Enterprise surged forwards.

Uhura watched the screen tensely. She could see the vibration in the thruster they’d had to reattach. Scotty had hidden himself in a corner. Uhura knew how helpless she felt—the escape packs installed in the hovercar seats were basically foolproof, and nobody had ever been killed during this competition, but there were first times for everything. She went over to Scotty. He was holding his knees to his chest, his hands crossed in front of his head. He looked slightly angry.

He looked up at her, eyes narrowed. 

“Ah wish ah were on a proper ship,” he said, frowning. “Ah wouldn’t feel so useless. On a starship you can fix things if they break mid-warp or in th’ middle of battle. With hovercars, there’s nae ah can do until th’ race is over.”

Once on the racetrack, the rebuilt Narada swerved straight for the Enterprise. In its new form, the Narada was smaller but spikier, more obviously dangerous and clearly much faster. Spock realized immediately that its handling power was significantly greater than that of the Enterprise. He accelerated, trying to get away from the Romulan ship, convinced Nero would try something blatant and illegal that would nonetheless throw the Enterprise from competition. The Narada closed on him, catching up more quickly than Spock expected them to. They were in front of the fifth group; in fact, the Enterprise was so close to the fourth group that it was in first place. 

The UCLA track was flatter than the Riverside course had been, more wide and open. There were no real rough patches for Nero to take advantage of, no screens of trees behind which he could destroy other hovers. But nothing in the rules of the competition said that vehicles were responsible for the accidents they caused. Although Nero could not actively seek to cause harm to the other hovers, he could confuse them and intimidate them as much as he wanted.

Spock had already used up his allotted fuel for the first tenth of the race even though he had only traveled a twentieth of it. He slowed down, gritting his teeth as he decelerated to four hundred miles an hour. The Narada moved in front of him and threw on its brakes.

Spock whipped the wheel to the right, barely avoiding a collision. He had to reduce speed or he wouldn’t make it through the race, but the cost was the Narada dogging his every move.

x

Having met at the back door, Kirk and Bones proceeded into the wilderness at the center of the circular course. Knee-high, golden grass and upturned granite boulders made up the landscape. A path that sloped downwards was cut through the grass, darkly shaded and slightly spooky in the cloud cover. Kirk and Bones followed it, Kirk reaching back to take Bones’s hand. It was warm out, nearly seventy despite the clouds, and Kirk had left his jacket with his bag on the transport. Bones, who carried a backpack with him nearly all the time (including now), was sweating slightly. At one point, Kirk, smiling mischievously, turned around and planted an unexpected kiss on Bones’s lips. They stayed locked together for a few minutes before Kirk detached himself, laughing, and tugged Bones onwards.

They had walked for a few minutes, encountering short, stumpy trees and larger and larger igneous outcroppings when they heard a distant yell.

“Did you hear that?” Kirk demanded, stopping and putting his hand on Bones’s shoulder to quiet him.

“Of course I heard it, Jim!” snapped Bones.

“Down here,” said Kirk, dragging Bones down a ravine and into the bowl small valley, rimmed with the tiny, shrublike trees and edged by spiky rocks. Bones tripped on a loose chip of granite and fell heavily. Kirk ran back for him. Cursing, Bones waved him away, clutching at his ankle.

“Twisted,” he gasped. “You go on, make sure nothing’s happenin’. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” said Kirk, worried. He pecked Bones’s mouth and dashed off.

“Crazy kid,” muttered Bones. It suddenly occurred to him that there could be Romulans down there, luring Kirk into a trap. He pulled himself to his feet, wincing as his ankle ground horribly—might be a fracture, actually—broke a branch off a tree to use as a cane, and limped hurriedly down the gully.

Kirk met him near the bottom, eyes wide. “It’s Pike and Dr. Eleen,” he panted. “She’s gone into labor. Come on, I’ll help you down.”

“Have you called paramedics?” he demanded as Kirk scrabbled up the rock in front of him. Why had they even gone in this way? There was a perfectly reasonable entrance over to the right that Pike and Eleen had clearly used. 

“Can’t,” grunted Kirk, losing breath as Bones leaned on him to heave himself over a waist-high boulder. “Communicators can’t get through for some reason.”

“Then run out to the track and call! They’ll take long enough to get here as it is!”

“That’s why I’m getting you down,” said Kirk.

Bones froze. “What?”

“You’re pre-med, aren’t you? Come on, arm on my shoulders, like that. You’ll have to help until the paramedics show up.”

“Are you insane? I’ve never delivered a baby alone before!”

“You’ve observed, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, a couple times, but—”

“Better than me or Pike,” said Kirk stubbornly. “Think of it as a pop quiz in physiology.” They had made it to the bottom. An idyllic little lake was holed in the center of the valley. Eleen was lying against a nearly vertical piece of flat granite, eyes closed and panting. Pike was expressionless as he knelt beside her, his hands wrapped in a tight knot on his lap.

“Git, Jim,” growled Bones, pushing Kirk towards the easier entrance. Kirk shot one worried look at Pike and Eleen and started back up the trail.

Bones limped over to Pike and Eleen, exchanging a black look with Pike. He dropped painfully to the ground at Eleen’s side, rummaging through his backpack for his medical tricorder and sonic cleanser. He ran the cleanser over his hands and lower arms, pulled out the tricorder, and automatically placed a hand on Eleen’s shoulder to steady her as he ran the tricorder across her chest and abdomen. She hissed, pulling away from his touch.

Bones, who was sweaty, angry, and in considerable pain, was not about to accept that reaction from someone he was trying quite selflessly to help.

“Now you listen to me, woman,” he snapped at her. “I’ll touch you in any way or manner that my professional judgment indicates.”

Eleen glared at him. “You’re not even in college,” she said breathlessly. “Professional judgment…”

“I’m a damn sight more qualified than either of you to help out.”

“I have delivered ten children!” cried Eleen. “I know my way through childbirth—” She let out a cry of pain.

“Then tell me exactly what’s wrong with the baby,” said Bones harshly. “You can’t? Funny, I can. It’s a breech birth, kneelin’, and you’re presentin’ Gorricker’s syndrome as well, both of which are complications I can deal with but you can’t. Mr. Pike, help me get her back against this rock; I’m not an escalator.”

Bones and Pike wrestled Eleen into position. “If you’ve given birth so many times, why couldn’t you tell that you were goin’ into labor soon?” Bones demanded. “You’re nine months, if not more. You shouldn’t be out to pasture in your condition.”

“The typical gestation period for Romulans and Vulcans is ten months,” said Eleen tightly. “The child I am carrying is half Romulan, half Vulcan. I have only ever given birth to human infants before this.”

Bones gaped at her. “Why didn’t you say so!” he cried.

“You’re the one with the tricorder!”

“It’s just taking basic readin’s, the thing assumes you know what species you’re—never mind. You’re a surrogate, then? Unless you’re also hidin’ pointed ears and a shadowed past from me?”

“No pointed ears. The child is not mine.”

“Great. I don’t know hell about Romulan and Vulcan anatomy. Might not be Gorricker’s.” Bones frowned down at her. “You’re already at five centimeters. How’d you manage so fast?”

“Aren’t you—the doctor?” gasped Eleen. Bones was impressed; he knew enough of childbirth to figure that if he were female, he’d be sobbing for an epidural round about now. But this lady hadn’t so much as screamed, although her yells were unnaturally loud and contained an impressively high concentration of curses.

“Technically, you are,” said Bones. “But don’t let that hang y’up. Ten births, you say? Guess it makes sense you’re at five—five and a half, now—centimeters. Alright, hold still, I have to make sure we don’t have a cord prolapse.” Bones had participated in a delivery last year, at his father’s hospital, but it had been a standard presentation, not this. Still, he knew the old theory behind dealing with breech births and wasn’t about to back out.

x

Pike wrapped his hand around Vina’s as he looked into Eleen’s eyes. Eleen was five months into her voyage with the Kelvin, which she had finally accepted in return for a number of high-dollar conditions.

“The problem is,” Pike said to her after a long breath, “that Vina cannot carry to term. We were wondering if—if you would, perhaps, consent to be a surrogate for our child, since you have previous experience. We ask not just as friends—we would be more than willing to pay you for your troubles.”

Eleen rose, seeming oddly uncomfortable. “I—I would prefer not to,” she said after pacing around the settee. She did not look him in the eye. “There are certain—complications—which prevent me from carrying to term at this time.” She was unwilling to say more. Struck by her awkwardness, Pike left, taking Vina with him.

A week later—and a week before they reached Calder II, where the Kelvin was destroyed—Winona came to Pike with a pale, drawn expression on her face. She had just seen Vina and Eleen kissing.

Pike confronted Vina later that night.

Vina stared at him after he told her what a friend (he did not want to implicate Winona) had witnessed. 

“I want a divorce,” she said simply.

Pike gaped at her. “I’m sorry?” he said, feeling his heart go cold.

“If you’re going to be like this—”

“Like—like what? I don’t blame you, Vina, I just—I’d rather you had asked permission before sleeping with Julie. I don’t mind, but—”

“You don’t mind. How can you not mind? I’m in love with her. That’s why I’ve been sneaking off to see her. I don’t want you anymore, Chris. I don’t want a child with you, either.”

Pike had no idea what to do. He was confused and shocked and frightened. He had been with Vina for five years and he had never seen her like this.

“You said—before, when we got the tests—you said you wanted a child, with me—”

“I lied,” said Vina harshly. “I don’t need you. I’ve already picked her.”

“Picked—her? For what? I don’t understand.”

“Now there’s a fine choice for intelligent offspring,” she said caustically. “I’m glad I didn’t go with you.”

“Offspring? As in children?”

“What else? I’d have more luck crossing you with a computer. You’re too dedicated to your work, Chris. You have no idea what’s required to raise a child.”

“Vina—of course I do. I was completely willing to take as much time off as necessary to raise—”

“Starfleet is about to promote you,” a voice interrupted.

Pike spun around. Eleen was standing in the doorway, in her characteristic position of hands on hips, staring at Pike like he was an insect.

“They’re giving you your own ship,” she said bluntly. “As soon as the Kelvin finishes its repairs on Calder II, they’re dropping you off on Earth for your new commission. She’s called the Endeavor.”

Pike didn’t move.

“I found out from George, who heard if from Robau himself. If you and Vina conceive now, you’ll spend no time with your child before they send you off to parts unknown. And Vina never lied about wanting a child. She’s been wanting a child, but she hasn’t mentioned it because she thought you were too interested in promotions—which you are.”

“I—Vina, you—” But Pike had no idea what to say. 

“I’m leaving,” said Vina, standing and crossing the room to take Eleen’s hand. Her normally cheerful face had hardened into a cold mask, much like the one Eleen was wearing.

“Take your captaincy. I hope you enjoy it.”

Neither of them looked back as they left the room.

The next day, Pike tried to go talk to Vina, heading for Eleen’s quarters, but Eleen refused to let him in. In fact, when Pike, incensed, started to yell at her, she fired her phaser at him, stunning him. This was not something you were allowed to do on a Federation vessel without consequences. She was transferred to another ship for the duration of her experiment, not punished otherwise, since they were so much in need of her expertise. Vina followed her to the Halley, another Kelvin type, where Eleen restarted her experiments and heard the news that the USS Kelvin had been destroyed on Calder II. Horrified, Vina resigned Starfleet the next day and set out for Earth, where the survivors had been shipped.

She was maimed and paralyzed in a shuttlecraft accident before reaching the planet. The doctors told her she had no hope of regaining movement. 

After a time, she committed suicide.

x

“Ten children?” said Pike suddenly, between contractions. Eleen looked up at him and he pushed the sweaty hair out of her eyes, staring down at her. “On the Kelvin, you said you had been a surrogate for nine infants.”

“I had one after,” she said, and was relieved when her pains came again.

x

The race was going strangely well. Spock was trying not to let his luck lull him into a false sense of security, but it was a hard thing. The Narada had clipped a tough, well-built car called the Stewart and was lagging in the race, flashing between twentieth and thirtieth. The Enterprise remained in the top ten, trading places with the Stewart, the Lexington (who had placed first in the last race), and the Constellation, which was, at times, as dangerous as the Narada, but had thus far behaved well. A few other cars, including the Defiant and the Negh’Var (an entry from Valor High in San Francisco manned mainly by Klingons), were giving the Enterprise a run for its money.

At the halfway mark of the race Spock had caught up with his fuel consumption and was operating on exactly half of the predicted dilithium crystal output. He had no fuel to spare, but that was alright; he didn’t see himself needing a hard burn at any point in the race.

He lingered near eighth, allowing the Hornet and the Rotarran to pass him. He caught occasional glances of the Narada in his back mirrors. The Romulan vessel danced around mid-pack, continually attempting to break through into a higher rank but being thwarted each time. None of the hovercars were at all willing to cooperate with the Narada, not after what she had done last time.

And then, before he knew it, they were at the end of the race. Spock could see the finish line. Deeply surprised, he kept most of his attention behind him, on the Narada, which had managed to reach eighteenth but advanced no further. Maneuvering forwards, the Enterprise captured fourth from the Constellation and crossed the finish to resounding cheers.

x

The paramedics did not take long to arrive. Kirk waited for them at the entrance to the track, angrily fending off the track officials who were eager to cite him for breaking his suspension. He couldn’t help staring at the status screen instead of the road while he waited; as he watched, the Narada went from second to thirty-seventh, and the Enterprise dropped to fifth from first. He wondered desperately what was happening.

The ambulance arrived screeching. Kirk gesticulated wildly that they should pass under the racetrack. The race officials attempted to give the paramedics trouble but were thoroughly chewed out for obstructing the passage of an emergency vehicle by the driver, a determined-looking woman named Beverly who pulled Kirk aboard and asked him where to go. He directed them down the small path on the inside of the track, the ambulance flattening another four feet of grass as it barreled down the valley. 

Bones looked up to see four paramedics bearing down on him. He scrambled out of their way as they spread their kits around Eleen, hiking her onto a stretcher and checking her vitals. 

“The child is half Romulan, half Vulcan,” gasped Eleen. “I’ve been taking Romulan and Vulcan hormones that should make the labor faster and easier for a human, but I was supposed to have a midwife of each species by my side during the delivery. The baby—it’s Barda and Ezar’s.”

Kirk gaped. Bones was unsurprised; what other half Romulan, half Vulcan child was being born of a human mother? 

“No matter whose it is, you’re going to have a rough time of it,” said Beverly grimly. “It’s breech and presenting Gorricker’s.”

“I know,” panted Eleen. “I feel—no worse than normal.”

“You know?” said Beverly sharply. “How can you know?”

“Him,” Eleen managed, nodding to Bones.

Beverly whipped around, fixing Bones with an expectant stare. Bones quickly explained who he was and what had happened before they had arrived.

The baby came rapidly, within the next hour. Pike sent Kirk (who was very tired of being a messenger boy by this point) back to the track to tell everybody what had happened. Pike stayed because he knew Eleen, and Bones because he wanted to observe. Beverly even let Bones help since Eleen didn’t seem to like anybody else touching her.

Kirk beat off the track officials again and found the hoverclub, who were dancing around the Enterprise and brandishing its fourth place metal at the Romulans, who looked like they were barely restraining themselves from attacking. Spock had taken charge in the absence of Pike and sent Scotty to fetch the transport.

“Where have you been?” cried Chekov, running up to Kirk and throwing his arms around him. “We placed fourth! I went to look for you but I could not find you. Where are Meester Pike and Leonard?”

“Long story,” said Kirk, hugging Chekov back. “Fourth? Seriously? That’s awesome.” He smiled at Spock, who looked slightly happy with a pretty ribbon around his neck and Uhura clutching his arm tightly. “Congratulations,” Kirk said to him, unconsciously draping his own arm around Chekov.

“Thank you, James,” said Spock. “Do you know the whereabouts of Mr. Pike at this time?”

“Yeah, actually, he’s back at the center of the track,” said Kirk. “Dr. Eleen went into labor. He and Bones are with her and the paramedics.”

“Bad timing,” said Uhura sympathetically. “Is she alright?”

“I think so,” said Kirk. “Bones had to be the OB/GYN until the paramedics arrived. For some reason, the communicator won’t work in the valley they’re in.”

Spock gave him the eyebrow. “Considering this area was once a granite batholith which was destroyed by an accidental nuclear explosion in the late 2100s, that fact is not surprising. The amphibole hornblende in the batholith shards interferes with the amphibole termite in Nokia communicators such as your own.”

Kirk stared at him. “Do you have the answer to everything?”

“I do not pretend to be a walking encyclopedia—”

“Could have fooled me,” Kirk muttered.

“—but I am extremely intelligent. To utilize metaphor, my reservoirs of knowledge are deep.”

“Great. Let me know how that goes.” Kirk pulled Chekov off of him. “Go talk to Sulu,” he said. “I’m going to go back to check on them. I don’t know how long this is going to take, so you guys just hang out here, okay?”

“Okay,” said Spock innocently, trying to sound like he wasn’t mocking Kirk.

Kirk glared at him and trudged back to the makeshift hospital.

x

Eleen gave birth to a baby boy and was swept off with the child to the nearest hospital to meet the parents and undergo exhaustive exams. Before she left, Eleen made sure Kirk was cleared of assault so that he could ride back with the others. She actually smiled at Bones and nodded to Pike, who nodded back, his face blank, as Beverly wheeled her into the ambulance.

By the time they got back to San Francisco, it was midnight. Pike looked the most exhausted, but everybody thought Spock was probably more tired, considering he’d been passed out on Uhura’s lap ever since they got on I-5. He twitched when he slept and nobody could talk to Uhura since she was busy gazing lovingly at his sleeping form, which made Kirk fake-retch and Bones slap him upside the head. Sulu fell asleep on Scotty’s shoulder and Scotty carefully switched places with Chekov, who was feeling oddly protective of his friend.

“Wake up,” Chekov whispered to Sulu when they were driving through West Portal. “Hikaru, we are close to home.”

Sulu shifted and smiled blearily up at him. “Thought I fell asleep on Scotty,” he muttered, sitting up and flattening his hair. “Where’d you come from?”

“Scotty’s shoulder was getting numb,” said Chekov. “In Russia, our limbs do not fall asleep.”

Sulu laughed. “I’m sure they don’t,” he said. 

When they had gotten out of the transport and put the Enterprise to bed, they went their separate ways under the beaming streetlights. Chekov leaned over and pecked Sulu quickly on the cheek, then rushed away, blushing furiously. Sulu stared after him, a huge grin on his face. 

x


	18. Chapter Eighteen: The Apple

Still worked up over Bones, Chapel had sex with Gaila. It was great, but they were both keenly aware that it was pity sex, so afterwards they had a cleansing talk about men.

“He probably liked both of you, and he just chose Jim because they have a history,” Gaila said, attempting to restrain her extremely tangled hair with a scrunchie. “I mean, he’s being nice about everything, right? He hasn’t ignored you at all?”

Chapel buried her face in a pillow for a moment, the clean lines of her shoulder blades obviously clenched. A muffled “no” came from the pillow’s depths.

“What is it?” said Gaila, stroking those shoulder blades.

“Well…” Chapel sat up, draping the sheet around her body and leaning towards Gaila. “Actually, I’ve been ignoring him. He keeps trying to talk to me, but I never talk back. I just go all awkward.”

“What? Why?” Gaila demanded. “You should talk to him. You have to be friends with him to like him; it means you’re interested in his personality, not just his looks. Unrequited crushes are fine, you know; you don’t have to worry about getting too attached or something. Just—get to know him again, and maybe when he and Jim break up you can swoop in for the kill. Only, you know, wait a while. Don’t be a rebound or anything.”

“Obviously,” said Chapel. “But I’m worried I’ll go off the deep end, like Nyota.”

“Don’t even get me started on that girl,” growled Gaila, visibly tensing. “Her attitude is completely unhealthy. She won’t go out with us anymore. And Spock doesn’t have any friends, so it’s just the two of them, fucking constantly—I don’t mean that literally.”

“She talks to me a lot,” said Chapel, trying to stick up for Uhura. “On IM and in class. But yeah, we never do anything together.”

“High school relationships,” shrugged Gaila. “She’ll get over him eventually.”

“I think so. I know what it’s like to be obsessed with Spock. It’s very easy. There’s something quite intoxicating about him—like you,” Chapel added to Gaila, fluttering her eyelashes playfully.

Gaila’s hand disappeared under the sheets and Chapel shuddered at her light touch. “Thanks for the compliment,” purred Gaila, removing her hand.

Chapel’s eyelids flickered. “Wha?”

“You were talking about Spock,” Gaila reminded her, then distracted Chapel again by licking her fingers.

“We could continue the conversation later,” Chapel suggested, watching the tip of Gaila’s middle finger disappear into her mouth.

“Sounds good to me,” said Gaila eagerly. “I’ll grab the strap-on.”

x

Spock got to school early the Monday after the second race. He had swim team practice at seven. He saw Bones’s truck parked behind the football stadium—the homecoming game was that Friday and the coach was taking every available moment to drill his players. Spock walked into the natatorium and headed straight for the steamy changing rooms. He was a good swimmer, but not the best; he was better at fencing, karate, and Suus mahna—the combat arts—than he was at swimming, but he enjoyed the sport because it was calming. His demeanor and appearance tended to alarm the other competitors, which gave Enterprise High’s best swimmers a slightly unfair advantage.

Uhura, who was at tennis practice, had mentioned regretting not being able to see him in his swimsuit, which was very, very small. He wasn’t particularly embarrassed about it, but he found he had a difficult time making people take him seriously in a Speedo, was frustrating.

So when he walked out of the locker room and into the pool area, his goggles on his forehead (he’d left his glasses in the locker room), a towel draped over his arm, wearing nothing but his swimsuit and a pair of flip-flops and encountered a blurry James Kirk, also Speedo-clad, he paused.

Kirk, who was doing a leg stretch, grinned sideways at him. “You’re on the swim team too, then?” he said, giving Spock a blatant once-over.

Spock pulled himself together and stuck his nose in the air. “Obviously,” he said, attempting to brush past Kirk. But Kirk had other ideas. He leapt up, his lithe body unfolding as he leaned forward to grasp Spock’s arm.

“Can I help you?” said Spock coolly, wishing he had his glasses so that he could see Kirk’s expression.

“Let’s see who’s faster,” said Kirk mischievously. “Bet I can beat you in any style you choose.”

“Breaststroke,” said Spock quickly. He would be best at the most difficult stroke, thought Kirk. 

“Yeah, I could beat you at that,” said Kirk cockily, even though he wasn’t sure he could. “One hundred meters?”

Spock was better at sprints, but he wasn’t about to be the one to change the rules of the engagement. He nodded shortly and pulled on his goggles, which were prescription, so his eyesight returned, and he resisted the temptation to use his newfound sense of sight to visually explore Kirk’s very bare body. They lined up at the pool’s edge, counted down together, and took off.

To Spock’s surprise, he won. He bobbed at the edge of the pool, watching as Kirk pushed through the last few meters and surfaced, looking tired.

“You’re good,” panted Kirk. “You never looked to see how I was doing.”

Spock was confused. “Checking on the status of one’s opponent is detrimental to one’s own concentration.”

Kirk rolled his eyes. “No, it’s human to want to see where the competition is.”

“Might I remind you, James, that I am not purely human. How long have you been swimming for?”

Kirk shrugged. “A year. I could have beaten you in butterfly.”

Spock was impressed despite himself. He had been swimming for four years. “I doubt you could have. You claimed to be able to beat me in breaststroke, yet you could not.”

Kirk looked frustrated. Spock found this disturbingly adorable.

“That’s not the point,” said Kirk, frowning.

“Then what is the point, James?”

“I—well,” Kirk hesitated, flustered. “That’s beyond the point.”

“Ah,” said Spock wisely, pulling his goggles off so that he could raise his eyebrow properly. “I see. I’ll be going now.” He hauled himself out of the pool and walked off, back straight. He successfully refrained from looking back at Kirk, but it was a near thing.

Kirk, though, stared after Spock, and it wasn’t lovingly. Something about that boy just really pissed him off.

x

In the football locker room after practice, a shirtless and sweaty Bones poked at his tender ankle. The paramedics had dealt with his fracture after the baby had been born, but the ankle still hurt a bit when he exercised on it, which was quite bad, considering the homecoming game was Friday.

He told the coach, who sent him to the school’s physical therapist, who x-rayed it and advised two weeks of crutches and ice packs.

Bones gaped at him.

“Is there another option?” he said.

“Yes,” said the PT. “Ruining it.”

Bones was deeply skeptical of this diagnosis. He flipped through his anatomy book and decided something could be done. He called his own doctor and made an appointment for after school. His coach nearly had an aneurism when she heard that her star quarterback was badly injured, but Bones calmed the woman down. He tried not to think about what not playing the game would mean for the team. He was the end goal of most of their plays. He scored a vast majority of the touchdowns. He was the beating heart of the body that was the team, and one of his valves had evidently given out on him.

Eleen owes me big time, Bones thought as he accepted crutches from the PT. He would use them for the rest of the day, just in case.

x

The rumor spread like wildfire around the school—McCoy’s on crutches. Valor High is gonna beat the shit out of us on homecoming weekend. And most of their players are Klingons! Bones’s perpetual scowl didn’t help matters; everybody assumed he was unhappy about the game instead of just being himself.

His classmates also noticed the way his eyes lit up when he saw Kirk dashing towards him before first period, concern evident on his handsome face. Making room for Bones’s crutches, Kirk kissed Bones thoroughly before asking what had happened. Bones reminded him of twisting his ankle at the racetrack, which Kirk had honestly forgotten about. Kirk immediately demanded that he carry Bones’s books, which Bones found heart-meltingly romantic, and escorted him to English.

x

It happened during fourth period. Kirk and Bones were walking (and limping) to lunch, discussing Spock, whom Kirk had been ranting about since that morning. 

“You’re really this pissed just because he beat you in swimmin’?” said Bones, looking amused. “I didn’t know you were so competitive.”

Kirk hiked a false smile on his face. “I didn’t know he was so much fun to compete against.”

Bones rolled his eyes at Kirk’s comment and then stopped suddenly, his head tilted.

“What’s that noise?” He frowned.

Kirk stopped too, still grinning. “What noise?”

Bones looked further down the hall to investigate and stalked off in the direction of the faint banging. “Nevermind—you can’t hear anything over the sound of your goddamn ego, anyway.”

Kirk burst into a real smile and sprinted after Bones, who hadn’t gone far. “Left,” he murmured in Bones’s ear, directing him into a smaller hallway lined with lockers. They worked their way down the corridor, listening intently for the occasional rattles. Finally they stopped before one. Kirk yanked the locker open and Chekov, bright red and clutching his physics textbooks to his chest, tumbled out mid-knock.

“Jim!” he exclaimed. “Leo! I was—I was—”

“Pavel, how many times have you been stuffed in a locker this year?” asked Kirk, leaning against the bank of lockers and looking faintly amused.

Chekov brushed his curly hair out of his face and sniffed, not meeting their eyes. “Only a few times.”

“Who’s been doin’ it?” Bones growled, somehow extra intimidating on crutches.

“Nobody,” Chekov tried to say, but Bones raised his eyebrows alarmingly at him and hobbled forward, cornering Chekov against the open locker door.

“Who,” repeated Bones in a much more imperative tone of voice, leaning close in to the younger boy, “has been doin’ this?”

“Some seniors,” Chekov managed.

“Whose names are?”

“I do not know, Leo.”

“Like hell you don’t.”

Chekov shivered for a moment, then seemed to give up. “Raj Rapali,” he said finally. “Raj and his friends Wyatt, Wergil, Morgan, and Holliday.”

“That stuck-up guy in our calculus class?” said Kirk incredulously to Bones, referring to Raj. “I could take him blindfolded.”

“His friends are a different matter,” said Bones. “They’re tough cookies, Holliday especially. He’s in my physiology class and to be honest, he scares the hell outta me.” Bones patted Chekov’s shoulder sympathetically. “No wonder you didn’t say anythin’, kid,” he said. “Holliday’s kinda scary, isn’t he?”

“Da,” Chekov muttered. 

“Isn’t Raj one of the homecoming court?” Kirk asked.

“Yup,” said Bones. “It’s not always the nice guys. He looks good enough that everybody’s fine with nominatin’ him, but they also know his true colors. He wouldn’t mess with me on purpose. Guess he doesn’t know I’m friends with Pavel.”

Pavel looked up at Bones. “Friends?” he said in a small voice, sounding surprised.

Bones gave a raucous laugh. “Of course, kid,” he said. “We haven’t known you for long, but you don’t think Hikaru’s the only one who cares, do you?” Bones grinned evilly at Kirk. “Wanna go kick some ass?”

“I’ll deal with it,” said Kirk sternly. “You need to stay off that ankle. Pavel? Let’s go have some lunch and pick up the posse so that we can deal with your little problem, alright?”

“Alright,” squeaked Chekov, trying to rearrange the books he was still clutching messily and managing to drop all of them. Kirk grinned at him and picked them up. Chekov blushed. Bones, who was not at all intimidated by Chekov’s little crush on Kirk, smiled indulgently.

“Even just watchin’ should be fun,” said Bones.

“Oh, I think it will be,” said Kirk.

Chekov was worried.

x

Kirk, Bones, and Chekov were five minutes late to lunch, but Scotty had saved them their usual spot at the senior table, which was the longest table in the cafeteria and placed right up against the railing of the open area, so that all eyes were generally on it. Chekov had been sitting there with Sulu all year, but he was still nervous about the hundreds of worried eyes trained on him as he approached it; since he was with Bones, the attention he received was quadrupled.

“Damn people don’t know how to relax,” Bones growled, swinging himself onto his seat next to Riley and shoving his crutches under the table. “I’ll be fine.”

“You will? Are you sure?” Kevin Riley demanded. His on-again, off-again British boyfriend, John Kyle, rolled his eyes.

“It’s just a game, Kevin,” Kyle said.

“It’s the homecoming game!” Riley cried. “We have to win!”

Kyle took an insolent bite of his ice cream. “You’d do better to spend your time with real football,” he advised Bones. “None of those free throws and third downs. Just red cards, offside, and a few extra meters.”

“I do like soccer better,” Bones admitted. “But I’m damn good at football. The Friday night lights shine in my blood.”

“Typical Southerner,” said Kirk, who had just gotten onto the soccer team with Bones and Kyle and was rearing for the season to start. “None of your priorities are right. Football first, then soccer?”

“Sports,” announced Sulu, glaring at everybody, “bore me. Can we move on?”

“You don’t even care about the homecoming game?” cried Riley, sounding personally insulted.

“I do care about the homecoming game,” said Sulu appeasingly. “It’s the only game I go to. Plus, I have to go this year, since I somehow got elected to the court.”

“Fopularify’s a bish,” said Bones around a large bite of cheeseburger.

Kirk had the gall to look nauseated. “Chew and swallow, man,” he said.

Bones stuck his tongue out at him. The sight was disgusting.

“He’s just trying to get back at you,” said Gaila to Kirk. “Scotty’s been a bad influence on your eating-slash-talking habits.”

“Ah ‘ave nae!” protested Scotty, spraying Gaila with bits of sandwich. She gave him a slow look that would have killed a lesser man and brushed crumbs off the front of her shirt dangerously.

“’orry,” Scotty muttered, shrinking back down in his chair and clutching his BLT protectively.

“So, who are each of you going to homecoming with?” Kirk asked perkily, attempting to change the subject.

“Scotty, for reasons unknown,” said Gaila, glaring sideways at him. Scotty continued to look meek.

“This berk,” said Kyle, nodding to Riley, who just scowled.

“Ruth,” said Janice Rand, smiling.

“I asked Joe,” said Tony Giotto, blushing slightly. Everybody grinned widely at him; Giotto had been enamored of Joe Tormolen for quite a while and hadn’t acted upon his attraction until now.

“Good for you,” said Chapel sweetly. Kirk looked at her expectantly. 

“Haven’t been asked,” she said as carelessly as possible. 

Bones frowned. “Damn shame,” he said, and winked at her. Chapel grinned despite herself.

“I am going with Sylwia Beecher,” said Chekov happily, much to the surprise of everybody at the table. Sulu stared at him.

“That—freshman?” said Kirk, thinking that calling her “that fucking gorgeous freshman” like he wanted to would offend Bones.

“The girl similar in appearance to the risin’ sun?” said Bones. (Screw you, thought Kirk.) “She’s a stunner. I thought—” Bones paused, appearing to figure something out. “I thought Sylvia was goin’ with Raj Rapali.”

Chekov nodded dreamily. “She was,” he said. “She said she’d rather go with me. We haf differential equations together and she said she liked the way I harmonize my functions in Laplace equations.”

Sulu was still attempting to force his face into a pleased expression, but he managed to say, “When did she ask you?”

“This morning,” said Chekov. He looked elated for a moment, then suddenly sad. “It is why Raj stuffed me in that locker.”

Kirk and Bones hadn’t really had a chance to tell anybody about the locker incident. They’d been planning on breaking it to Sulu quietly somewhere where he could destroy things without anybody else noticing. Everybody watched out of the corner of their eye as Sulu broke the plastic fork he was holding.

“What happened?” Sulu demanded in a high voice, ignoring the crushed cutlery and focusing entirely on Chekov.

“Raj and his friends, they told me that I was not allowed to go with Sylwia to homecoming, and that I should back off, but I refused, so they pushed me into a locker and left me there,” said Chekov, staring at his plate, his face flushed in embarrassment. 

“Pavel,” said Sulu sincerely, putting his arm over Chekov’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was not your fault,” said Chekov, confused.

“I’m just expressing sympathy,” said Sulu dryly.

“Oh,” said Chekov, and smiled at him. Sulu smiled back. 

Everybody else was quiet until Gaila cleared her throat awkwardly and said loudly, “So, Hikaru, who are you going with?”

“Nobody,” said Sulu, his shoulders drooping. “Haven’t found the right person yet.” Quite a few people had asked him but he’d turned them all down; he had been getting up the courage to ask Chekov, but it was evidently too late for that.

“Hey!” said Chapel, leaning across Chekov and looking at Sulu. “Want to come with me?”

“Sure!” said Sulu, perking up. “That’d be fun!”

They grinned idiotically at each other for a moment before somebody cleared their throat and everybody looked up to see Spock leaning over Bones. Bones blinked up at him, bemused.

“Can I help you, Spock?”

“Yes,” said Spock, looking uncomfortable. “I have a favor to ask of you, Leonard.”

“What is it?”

“Could I… speak to you in a more private location?”

Bones shrugged. “My ankle really hurts,” he lied, unwilling to get up.

“Ah. Well,” coughed Spock self-consciously. “I suppose I shall address the question to the table, then.” He glanced around at all of them, clearly ill at ease. “I think am, as you would say… missing something. Nyota is angry at me.”

Everybody was biting his or her lip, trying not to laugh. Kirk glanced to the end of the senior table, where Spock and Uhura’s lunches were sitting abandoned.

“You know, that’s really somethin’ you’ll have to work out for yourself, Spock,” said Bones, sounding just as awkward as Spock.

“Normally, I would attempt to ascertain the reason behind her irritation for myself, but I suspect that it is human in origin,” said Spock, putting his hands behind his back. “Nyota seems to display particularly displeasing facial expressions whenever the word ‘homecoming’ appears or is mentioned.”

“Are you takin’ her?” asked Bones.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you takin’ her to homecomin’?”

“What do you mean?”

Bones stared at him. “The dance, you green-blooded idiot. Are you takin’ her to the homecomin’ dance?”

“I am not sure—”

“You haven’t asked her?”

“No—why would I? Am I supposed to?”

“Of course y’are!” cried Bones. “You’re datin’ her! That means you’re supposed to ask her to homecomin’!”

“Ah,” said Spock, enlightened. “That must be the problem. I will rectify this immediately. Thank you for your help, Leonard.”

And he returned to his seat just before Uhura came back from the restroom.

“My God,” groaned Bones. “I don’t know how he survives on Earth.”

Kirk watched as Spock reached over the table and took Uhura’s hand in his, speaking. She stared at him for a minute, listening, and then smiled widely and nodded. They both looked irritatingly pleased with themselves.

“Hey,” said Bones, snapping his fingers in Kirk’s face. “You there, Jim?”

“What? Yes,” said Kirk quickly. “Does anybody know why they’re still dating?”

“It’s probably the passionate sex,” said Giotto sarcastically.

“It could be,” said Gaila seriously. “Vulcans are quite intense.”

“I know Nyota’s just as promiscuous as the rest of us, but Spock—he doesn’t seem like the type,” said Rand. 

“How long have they been dating for?” said Chapel.

“A little over a month, now,” said Kirk. 

“Shockin’,” said Bones. “I think Nyota’s longest relationship ‘til now was two weeks, with Liam.”

“Ferrolin?” said Kirk. “In our history class?”

“Yeah,” said Bones. “He’s pretty cool. He could kick all y’all’s asses in martial arts.” Bones glanced around and saw him at the other end of the senior table, a few seats from Raj and his friends. Liam was eating alone, reading a book. Whenever Raj’s friends got too loud, he would glance pointedly at them and they would quiet down.

“Huh,” said Bones to himself. “That’s interestin’.”

x

After lunch, as they were heading back to class, Kirk swiped an apple from one of the complimentary bowls of fruit next to the vending machines and promptly dropped it in surprise when a voice behind him said, “James? If I may have a word?”

The apple rolled towards the voice. A booted toe popped it into the air and caught it with open palms. Kirk looked up from the outstretched hands to see Spock watching him.

“Nice reflexes,” said Kirk, plucking the apple out of Spock’s fingers without touching him. “What do you want?”

“Since I am sadly ignorant of many Earth traditions, I was wondering if you could enlighten me as to any other important rituals humans observe during the time of homecoming,” said Spock.

“Uh,” said Kirk, starting back towards Pike’s room. “You dress formally for the dance. And you should probably take her to the game.”

“Formally meaning—a tuxedo?” Spock trailed him like a duckling following its mother.

“Suit and tie, at the least,” said Kirk. “She’ll wear a nice dress. You should ask her what color her dress is going to be so you can get the same color tie.” Kirk was slightly unnerved by how intent Spock was on Kirk’s every word.

“Are there any traditions to be observed when we attend the football game?” said Spock. 

“Do you actually know anything about football?”

“Yes; before I came to Earth, I read an American football rulebook and am in complete understanding of the game.”

“Well… good. Buy her a hot dog or something; that’s pretty traditional.”

Spock made a face. “The human ability to consume flesh is questionable, but your tendency to combine multiple dubiously named meat products into one truly disgusting package simply escapes me.”

Kirk didn’t say anything in reply. Spock looked over at him. Kirk was staring at Bones, who was standing further down the hall, talking to Liam Ferrolin.

“Do you like Pavel?” Kirk asked abruptly. “Do you care about him, I mean?”

“I suppose,” said Spock slowly. “He is an intelligent boy with a good heart.”

“And you don’t like bullies, right?”

“I do not,” said Spock coldly.

“Meet us after school in the library,” said Kirk. “Raj Rapali and his friends have been ganging up on Chekov. We’re going to have a talk with them.”

“I see,” said Spock, understanding the euphemism and feeling a small blossom of rage unfurl inside of him. “I will certainly be there.”

x

Kirk’s plan was brilliant, even though Chapel, Gaila, and Rand slapped him after he proposed it, and Ruth and Uhura looked pissed.

Bones looked like he was trying not to laugh as he told off the girls for slapping his boyfriend. Kirk scowled at him. Still, everybody had to agree that it was the best idea that anybody had come up with, so they put it in action.

At the end of calculus, the five girls walked by Raj Rapali’s desk. He was sitting with Holliday. Both of them watched as the girls walked by. Chapel did an obvious double-take of Raj and stopped, looking down at him, her arms tucked under her breasts to emphasize her low-cut shirt.

“Hey,” she said sweetly. “Heard you don’t have a date to homecoming anymore.”

Raj glared at her. He was a tall, skinny Indian boy, with thin eyebrows and a weak jaw, but his large eyes were liquid and his cheekbones were hauntingly sharp. Chapel could see why people found him attractive.

“What business is it of yours?” Raj said coolly.

“I was simply wondering if you’d like to go with me,” said Chapel, giving him her sexiest eyelash flutter and coy smile. “And if none of your other friends have dates, maybe… maybe they could take us.” She motioned to Uhura, Ruth, Rand, and Gaila.

Raj frowned. “I thought you were dating that Vulcan,” he said to Uhura. “And I thought you were a lesbian,” he added to Ruth.

And here was where the reason they had slapped Kirk came in.

“I am,” purred Ruth, snaking her arm around Rand’s hip. Raj’s mouth formed an “O” of comprehension. He looked over at Holliday, who was clearly intrigued.

“We’ll be in the library after school,” said Uhura. “Come get to know us?” The girls blew them kisses and sashayed away.

Across the room, Kirk mimed applause until Bones slapped at his hands irritably.

x

Raj and his four friends entered the dark library after school. It closed early on Mondays, but the door had been unlocked (thanks to Scotty’s suspicious ability to use a lock-pick), and, preoccupied by the idea of five fiercely sexual girls taking them to homecoming and maybe more, they didn’t think too much of their ease of entry.

Which was a huge mistake.

They moved forward in the dim light, hands scrabbling across computer desks and bookshelves, until they came to the open reading area filled with couches. Five shapes were sprawled across the cushions in the middle of the floor—the girls, staring up at them with sly expressions on their shadowed faces.

Suddenly, a single light came on above their heads. Its beam was focused on a single point directly behind the girls. Inside of the light stood a bright figure pointing a long, shining object at them.

Raj and his friends stopped in their tracks. The effect was melodramatic, but impressive.

More lights came on, and more people appeared, flanking them. James Kirk, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Leonard McCoy, leaning forward menacingly on his crutches. Montgomery Scott, holding a heavy pipe wrench. Spock, utterly expressionless.

“En garde,” whispered Hikaru Sulu, brandishing his fencing foil.

Raj and his friends turned to run, but Chekov and Sylvia Beecher were behind them, arm in arm.

“I do not think you will go so soon,” said Chekov quietly. “I think you will stay and listen to what we have to say to you.”

“I don’t,” snarled Raj. He threw himself at Chekov.

It wasn’t much of a brawl. Everybody fought—even Bones managed to bash Holliday over the head with his crutches—but not for long. Spock and Liam Ferrolin dealt with the bullies rapidly. Spock beat Raj into a pulp, shockingly unable to control his rage. Liam, cartwheeling across the room, took out Wyatt, Vergil, Morgan, and Holliday with a stunning series of kidney kicks that left the four boys groaning.

“Spock—Spock! Get off of him!” cried Kirk, trying to grab Spock’s arms, but a wild punch from Spock threw Kirk across the room. Uhura rushed over, putting a calming hand on Spock’s shoulder, and the beatings slowed, then stopped. Raj was unconscious and bleeding. Spock sat back on his haunches, blank, Uhura kneeling next to him, a panicked expression on her face. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

“My God,” whispered Bones, hobbling over. He dropped heavily to his knees, snapping at Chapel to bring him his backpack. Spock backed away, his eyes widening slowly. 

“What is wrong with you?” Bones roared at Spock. “You can’t just beat a man like this, no matter what he’s done!” He waved his tricorder over Raj’s still form and seemed to relax.

“He’s fine,” he said, gruffly surprised. “Except for cuts and bruises, he’s fine.”

“I nerve-pinched him,” said Spock softly. “At the end.”

Raj looked terrible, but most of his injuries were superficial. He had a black eye and multiple bruises, and was bleeding from a split lip and eyebrow. Bones roused him roughly. 

“Let’s talk a little more about who you’re not takin’ to homecomin’,” said Bones, gathering Raj’s collar in his fist almost delicately. “Sylvia can go with whoever she wants, y’hear? If I see you or your friends anywhere near her or Pavel again, I will let him—” (He nodded to Spock) “—loose on you, and you can possibly tell that he doesn’t like bullies. Are we clear?”

Raj licked his lips. “We’re clear,” he said hoarsely.

“Good.” Bones released Raj’s shirt and Raj scrambled upwards. “You’re free to go.”

Raj dashed from the library. His four friends were still groaning on the floor.

“Leave ‘em,” said Bones, disgusted. “Maybe they’ll get busted for breaking and entering. Let’s get outta here.”

x

“That scared me,” said Uhura. Her voice was trembling. It was thirty minutes later and they were at her house, in the living room. “You can’t—you can’t do something like that. Leo was right.”

“I know,” said Spock, staring at his hands, which he had laced together in his lap. Uhura was standing in front of him. “I am aware that my actions were—inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate?” Uhura cried. “They were downright dangerous! You could have killed him! Spock, you never lose control.”

“Nyota, you have simply never seen me lose control. I have before. I do not like bullies.”

“Is that—” She stopped, steeled herself, and continued. “Are they why you—why you tried to kill yourself?”

Spock stiffened. “No,” he replied immediately, too quickly. “I had—other reasons.”

“Like what?” demanded Uhura. “Spock—why?”

He stood, his long body unfolding. He placed his hands on her upper arms and moved close to her.

“Believe me when I say that I would like to tell you,” he said, staring into her eyes. “But I cannot. I have never spoken to anyone of this, and I—I simply will not, now.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, caressing his cheek.

“I am sure,” he said. He kissed her gently, trying to placate her. “I am sorry, but I am only so human. In fact, I want to tell you something. I have been meaning to show you this for a while.” He held up his right hand in the Vulcan salute. “Place your hand against mine.”

She did so, noticing the way his eyelids flickered when her cool skin pressed against his warm palm.

“When Vulcans and Romulans kiss, they do it—differently,” he said. “Our hands are sensitive. The texture of our skin is different—do you feel?” She ran the pads of her fingers down his pointer and saw him tremble slightly. 

“I feel,” she breathed. “Spock—”

He gathered her in a fierce, human kiss while she massaged his hands. They gasped against each other.

“Please, Spock,” she said. “Let’s g-go to my room, please, I need you—”

“Yes, he whispered into her ear. “Yes. I need you too.”

He cupped her face and kissed her once more, and then moved for the stairs. Their fingers united, her thumb stroking his knuckles as they climbed the steps. She was going to take thorough advantage of this revelation.

x

Kirk waited in the lobby while Bones went in to see his doctor.

“We can fix that easily,” the doctor said, peering down at Bones’s ankle. He was a balding man in medical teal. “The paramedic team didn’t tell you to keep off of it?”

“Nope,” said Bones, stretching out on the biobed. “I know it was dumb of me to go to practice so soon after a healin’, but the big game’s this Friday, and I had to show up.”

“Athletes,” sighed the doctor, poking at Bones’s ankle. He picked up an osteoregenerator and frowned at its controls. “Doesn’t anyone know how to turn off the program when they leave?” he muttered, pressing a few buttons. He leveled the device over Bones’s ankle. “This will take about ten minutes,” he said. “I’ll be back when you’re done.”

Bones walked out of the hospital with a spring in his step. His ankle was perfectly fine, but the doctor had advised him not to run or do leg exercises for a week, with an exception for the game. Bones knew his coach wouldn’t be happy about losing him for practice, but at least he was going to be able to play homecoming.

“You’re in a great mood,” commented Kirk as they slid into Bones’s pickup. “Healing make you feel better?”

“Much better,” said Bones, starting the engine and shifting into reverse. He whistled a bar from Amazing Grace.

“This is a little weird,” said Kirk, staring at Bones. “You’re supposed to be grumpy. You’re not on antidepressants, are you?”

Bones raised his eyebrow. “My demeanor is just naturally pessimistic. And you’re askin’?”

“Cheerful old me? What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, didn’t you—” Bones felt his good mood evaporate as he realized what he was going to ask. “—didn’t you try to commit suicide?”

Kirk shrugged, his expression unchanging. “It was a different time,” he said lightly, and Bones left it at that.

x


	19. Chapter Nineteen: The Lights of Zetar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homecoming, n.: A week, in late September/early October, when high schools across America have dress-up days, charity carnivals, athletic events, parades, and dances to welcome the students back (but really it’s an excuse to par-tay). The homecoming court consists of 8-12 boys and girls—dukes and duchesses—from whom a king and queen are elected by the student body and crowned at some point during the festivities. Because I am from the South, we also had a mum exchange, where the boy obtains an elaborate flower-ribbon-medallion thing—a mum—and gives it to the girl, who gives him an arm garter with ribbons and bells in return. It’s a little weird. Also, I totally BSed the football stuff. (It’s football. Who really gives?)

Spock didn’t feel any different.

On Monday, he sat in his car in the driveway for a little longer than he normally did, and walked slower to the front door of his house, feeling his footsteps reverberate up his legs. His clothes felt strange; unnatural on his body, as if they no longer fit properly. His mind was going a thousand miles an hour, but he took time to notice the pale veins on the leaves of the poplar trees that arched across the walkway between the garage and the house. Through the branches, the sky was overcast, an enclosing, deep purple-blue. His forearm itched. He scratched it distractedly.

That had been… interesting.

Sex with Uhura was not nearly as awkward as he’d expected it to be. While there had been a few mortifying moments, her sweetness had made everything better, smoother, more grounded and easy to deal with. Her eyes had gleamed joyfully as he had pressed against her, and no matter how much she had to help him and guide him, she had kept smiling, as if she couldn’t believe what was happening.

Which made him feel terrible, because he could believe what was happening, and why had she been so elated when he had felt so—normal? He had been happy, of course he had, but also incredibly nervous, and somehow also deeply guilty, though he tried to convince himself he was doing nothing wrong.

He frowned at I-Chaya, who greeted him with his usual exuberant licking. I-Chaya didn’t notice anything, even though sehlats had an incredible sense of smell. Well, maybe he sniffed at Spock’s lower quarters a bit longer than usual, but that was probably just Spock being paranoid. Spock cleared his throat and said a soft ‘hello’ to his mother from the base of the stairs. He didn’t really want to talk to her; he needed to take a shower first. He was convinced the scent of Uhura was still on him, obvious to everyone he encountered.

“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes, dear,” called Amanda from the kitchen. That was what he got for coming home so late. He rushed his shower, hoping his parents wouldn’t ask why he had come home and bathed, since he generally showered in the morning. They probably will, he thought pessimistically, scrubbing his legs with mint body wash. He turned off the water and dressed in two minutes, brushing down his sopping hair with his fingers and arriving downstairs fourteen minutes and forty-eight seconds after Amanda called to him about dinner. Sarek was already there. Sure enough, he turned to Spock.

“It is abnormal for you to cleanse yourself in the daytime,” Sarek said. Any human would have said, Weird that you took a shower. It was one of those “You should see this as a question, unless you’d like to be obtuse and see it as a comment” statements that Spock himself was so good at because Sarek used them all the time.

Amanda set a squash casserole dish down in the middle of the table. “He can shower whenever he wants, dear,” she said to Sarek. “Have a seat, you two, I’m almost done with the katterpod beans.”

Spock and Sarek took their chairs. Spock chose not to reply to the pseudo-question and did not look at his father.

“How was school?” Amanda asked, bustling about while Sarek eyed him.

“Troubling,” Spock said, deciding on the spur of the moment to lead the conversation in a direction that would distract his parents from his recent abnormal behavior. “There are bullies on this planet, too.”

Both Sarek and Amanda paused in what they were doing. Sarek stared at Spock, his eyebrows a fraction of an inch closer together in concern.

“Are you having problems with them?” Sarek asked, his voice and betraying no tremor.

“No,” said Spock. “A boy in the hovercar club was. We—myself and a few acquaintances—dealt with the bullies.”

Amanda didn’t like the sound of that. “What did you do to them, Spock?” she said quietly.

“There were eighteen of us,” said Spock, knowing how bad this sounded. “And five of them. But they were not hurt badly.”

“Spock,” said Sarek, rather coldly, “you should know better than to attack humans weaker than yourself. It is against the rules and laws of this land and our land to harm other people, and it is morally repugnant to seek revenge through intimidation or treachery.”

“Something had to be done,” said Spock, obdurate. Dinner lay ignored. “Bullies have to be stopped. You cannot reasonably tell me otherwise.”

Sarek evidently did not know what to say to that. Amanda stepped in. 

“Look at me,” she said. There was a high string of tension in the room. Spock moved his gaze to her. She was standing next to the seated Sarek, hands on the table, leaning forwards. “You have done violence for the purpose of vengeance. That is against your way.”

Spock lowered his head for the first time. The defiance went out of his face. “I know,” he whispered. “I do—realize that what I have done is wrong. But I could think of no other option. They will not bother him again.”

“Think on what you have done,” said Amanda gently. “We understand, but do not approve. We will not punish you.” She sighed and moved away from the table. “Shall we eat, now?” Sarek nodded. Amanda returned to the kitchen to fetch the katterpod beans. Spock felt the silence keenly. He had to say something to Sarek, who was staring at his glass of water, obviously unsure of how to deal with his half-human son.

“I am sorry, father,” Spock said quietly.

Sarek shook his head, still riveted by the glass. “You will always be a child of two words, Spock.”

Amanda sat the beans down next to the casserole. Spock noticed her hands shake slightly. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the way she looked at him the first time he saw her in the hospital after—after the incident. Her hands had shaken then, too. He never wanted to see that expression or anything like it again, and berated himself for selfishly reminding them of his old, unreasonable actions.

x

Okay, thought Bones. Okay. I can do this.

It was Friday. He was aware of next to nothing but the sound of his own heavy breathing. His heartbeat was a dull thud in the background. Hands clapped his back hollowly; he felt as if the friendly slaps reverberated through his whole being. Breath. Breathing. He was focused, focused. He let out one final, heavy sigh.

I’m ready.

The coach gave them the go, and Leonard “Bones” McCoy, number 47, led the Enterprise Eagles out of the locker room and onto the football field to deafening cheers.

Kirk, meanwhile, could not believe that his mother was sitting next to him at his own high school’s homecoming football game.

“Can’t you go sit with somebody else?” he growled, shoving her arm. She laughed and waved her gold and blue flag higher in the air. He scowled bad-temperedly, feeling like Bones. How lame was it to have your mom sitting with you?

She wasn’t moving. “Seriously. Please.”

“Who else are you going to sit with? Your boyfriend’s down on the field, and don’t tell me you actually have friends.” Winona stuck her tongue out at her son jokingly. “I know you and Spock hate each other for some reason.”

“Okay, yes, I would not go sit with Spock, but I’ll have you know that I do have friends, thank you very much.” He spotted Liam Ferrolin sitting with Rand, Ruth, Chapel, Sulu, Chekov, and Sylvia. “Those guys over there! I could go sit with them and you could not follow me.”

“You’re friends with them? Oh my God, is that Ruth?”

Shit. “No, but I did always think they were similar in appear—”

“It is Ruth! Look, she’s waving at me!”

“She’s waving at me, mom, she—”

Ruth ruined everything completely by standing up and shouting across the bleachers, “HI WINONA!”

Winona, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, grabbed Kirk by the collar and dragged him over to Ruth. Kirk was this close to attempting to destroy the world. He gave Ruth the most hateful glare he could come up with and she just winked at him and hugged Winona tightly. Everybody else looked bemused.

“Guys, this is my mom,” muttered Kirk, staring at the ground as if it had personally offended him. 

“I’m Winona!” she said cheerfully. “Nice to meet all of you!” They introduced themselves, smiling; her cheeriness was contagious. “Ooh! There’s Chris!” She was looking across the stands at Pike, who was sitting with Sarek, Amanda, and Chane Uhura. 

“Mom, if you go sit with them, I’ll… I’ll do the dishes for a week,” he begged.

“I’m holding you to it,” she said fake-sternly, wagging her finger in his face. He scowled at her again and she laughed and left for the company of adults.

“Sometimes I think she has ADD,” sighed Kirk, sitting heavily next to Liam.

“She is very… energetic,” Liam agreed delicately.

“Hey, JTK,” said Ruth, from behind him. “Don’t forget we have to go down to the sidelines at halftime for the court introduction.” Kirk looked excited. Ruth rolled her eyes. “You love being the center of attention, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” Kirk admitted. “It validates you, you know?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“It’s starting!” cried Kevin Riley from a few seats back. Chekov turned to look at him and saw a disinterested John Kyle lounging nearby, idly flipping through a news magazine. Chekov knew how he felt; he had only come to the game because Sylvia had wanted to. She had asked him if he were interested in dating her, and he’d had to say that he wasn’t, which had made her perpetual smile disappear for only a moment. She was trying to convince him to take her side with five-minute kisses that made him loose his breath completely (which was upsetting Sulu for some reason Chekov couldn’t understand). Still, even though she was beautiful and sweet, he couldn’t think of her as a girlfriend.

The Valor Warriguls had won the coin toss. Kirk was slightly alarmed by the number of Klingons on the Valor team—he’d known that ever since the Great Accord twenty years ago, Klingons had been immigrating to Earth; there had even been a few families of them in Riverside—but it surprised him to see they were interested in human sporting events. Valor High was in the Toghlahbe Heights, the Klingon neighborhood in San Francisco, and evidently they had adopted more than just an American address.

“Oh God, how tall is that one?” said Sulu, pointing to the Warrigul quarterback. “And I think it’s a she.”

“She is,” said Riley grimly. “The terror of the team. She—”

He stopped talking abruptly as a Warrigul linebacker took down Bones. Kirk put his hands over his mouth, but Bones leapt back up immediately and shook his fist at the linebacker, who shook her fist right back until the referee pushed them back into the lineup. At the snap, Bones grabbed the ball and ran for it, passing to the running back twenty yards downfield, who tossed it back near the five yard line to avoid the safety bearing down on him. Bones caught it midair, throwing himself over the end zone line. The Enterprise section erupted in cheers.

“Off to a good start!” cried Rand, clapping wildly.

“God, is this only the first field goal?” sighed Kyle, massively bored.

“That was a touchdown,” hissed Riley.

“Ah thought you were Irish,” commented Scotty to Riley, walking up with Gaila on his arm. 

“Only by birth,” said Riley distractedly, back to staring at the field. “Everyone’s American during football season.”

“Says you,” Chekov heard Kyle mutter.

Kirk, who was really only interested in the game because Bones was in it, watched attentively with nearly everybody else. Chekov and Kyle started talking about fifteen minutes in and became fast friends (although Kyle was a little put out when Chekov insisted that soccer was invented by the Russians). 

The first quarter was relatively uneventful; it ended at 18-9 with a Valor field goal. Bones stomped off the field and doused himself thoroughly with Gatorade before blowing kisses at Kirk, who caught them energetically. The second half was more exciting; at one point, Liam and Kyle had to wrestle Riley away from the sideline, where he was verbally abusing the ref. Spock, who was sitting on the second row with Uhura, looked rather taken aback by Riley’s language.

“What colorful metaphors,” said Spock, raising his eyebrow.

“That’s one way to put it,” laughed Uhura.

Half time arrived with the game tied at 33-33. The homecoming court and their dates made their way to the field for the small parade. Kirk leapt over the railing without waiting for the coach to open the gate and threw himself at Bones, kissing him furiously. 

“Are you alright?” he finally asked Bones seriously, his arms around Bones’s sweaty neck.

“I’m perfectly fine,” said Bones, shifting closer to Kirk, who was blessedly cool against him. “That quarterback is drivin’ me mad, though. Did you see her take out that wide receiver ten minutes back? They think three of his ribs’re shattered. And she’s only half Klingon.”

“My God. Keep away from her.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

Everybody lined up and paraded onto the field, waving at the Enterprise section while the Valor supporters looked on, bored. When Bones’s name was called, he got the biggest cheer. Sulu, with Chapel, Liam, with a clever girl named Areel Shaw, and Gary, with Elizabeth, grinned at him, while Raj Rapali, who’d been forced to take Holliday as his date, looked murderous. Of the girls, Gaila got the most applause.

Kirk watched the duchesses and their dates. Gaila and Scotty looked incongruous together, but happy; he wondered how long ago they had arranged to go to homecoming together, since Gaila was one of the most sought-after girls in school. Ruth and Rand, Kirk noticed, were oddly similar, with their curly blonde hair done up in twists at the back. Janice Lester, a hawklike brunette, was grasping the arm of an ill-at-ease Arthur Coleman. She glared at Kirk; so far, she was the worst enemy he’d made at school, but he wasn’t sure how he’d done it. She had been willing enough to sleep with him a few weeks ago; why did she hate him so much now? Miramanee Scharf, a black-haired, pink-cheeked American, escorted Salish Solari, who could have been her brother but for his everpresent scowl. When Kirk turned to the final duchess, who must have been Edith Keeler, he realized that he had never met her before. She had large, liquid eyes that could stare right through you and a pouting mouth. She was without a date.

“Edith’s an interestin’ one,” Bones muttered in his ear. “One of her ancestors founded NASA; don’t let her corner you or she’ll talk your ear off about how we should be spendin’ more on space exploration.”

“I thought Starfleet was forty percent of the Federation’s budget, and research was another ten.”

“It is. She thinks it should be fifty-five, with twenty for research.”

Kirk whistled. “How would we keep up the Food Program, then?”

“For the love of God, don’t ask her how or she’ll tell you, and the tellin’ll take years off your life.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

The court did a bit more waving and posing before they were ushered off. “I only hope I get elected as a consequence of winnin’ the game,” Bones said gruffly. Kirk could tell he didn’t really mean it, and patted him on the shoulder. He didn’t blame Bones for wanting the crown.

Up in the stands, Amanda and Winona were chatting amiably about their sons, Sarek was looking miserable without actually looking miserable, and Pike and Chane Uhura were deep in conversation about an obscure African neo-yardan author whom they both loved to read.

“Nyota is a very nice girl,” said Amanda, “but I think my son likes yours better.”

“You hinted as much the other day,” said Winona skeptically, “but Amanda, they hate each other.”

“Their personalities do not exactly mesh, I agree, but I think that is more a consequence of their upbringings rather than their mutual dislike. Spock is structured, organized, and precise. James seems—”

“—like an uncouth barbarian?”

“I would not speak so insensitively, but… yes.”

Winona laughed. “I had to work to support my boys. We never spent much time together when they were kids. They never got a lot of discipline, and they inherited their father’s impulsive streak. Jim’s as clever as a button, but he’s been arrested five times already—that I know of.”

“I’m sorry you were not able to stay close to them,” said Amanda kindly. “I was blessed by Sarek’s choice of careers; his job paid well enough for me to resign from Starfleet as soon as I discovered I was pregnant with Spock. I was a stay-at-home mother for him. I know him almost better than he knows himself, I think.”

“How wonderful for you. If there’s one thing I regret, it’s not knowing Jim well enough. We talk about everything, but I can never tell what he’s thinking, or planning, or not telling me.”

“Some people are simply more mysterious than others. But Spock has surprised me before, and I have no doubt that he will do so again.”

The intense part-Klingon quarterback continued to give Enterprise a hard time throughout the rest of the game, but no matter what the Valor players did, they couldn’t keep back Bones—until the end. The score was 54-48 with two minutes left in the game when the Valor quarterback ran another touchdown, tying the score, and in the next play, another linebacker slammed into Bones so hard Kirk could feel the pain in his own chest.

Nobody noticed Bones stumble slightly when he stood. Masking his limp as best he could, Bones ignored everything he had ever learned as an athlete or a medical student about playing with an injury and walked to the lineup, ignoring the new, sharp ache in the same ankle that had been fractured last weekend. 

The teams worked their way up the field towards the Valor end zone. The roar from the crowd was deafening, now. Bones clenched his teeth, feeling the pain in his very nickname. Ten more yards. If he could run it up the field, past that damn linebacker….

The snap. The rough, ridged surface of the football heavy in his hands. He leaned into a sprint, every other step a heart-wrenching twinge, shoved his way through the linebacker with pure orneriness, and threw himself heavily over the line.

It was the final score. Valor didn’t have time to get the ball back down the field. The announcer screamed that Enterprise High had won their homecoming game and the students poured into the field as if those words had broken a dam. Bones was absolutely swamped by spectators. He batted them away from lifting him onto their shoulders and gasped that he needed to sit, sick as the agony in his leg finally reached his mind. The people surrounding him could tell something was wrong, and escorted him to a bench. He limped obviously, now, pushing away Riley’s helpful arm and falling back onto a chair like an old man. Kirk was at his side, and so was the PT, who sounded extremely pissed. Bones was doing his best not to faint—the pain had built in a crescendo since the adrenaline had left his body, and he couldn’t even count the issis in the fortississimo of ouch that was his ankle, and then he couldn’t quite hold on anymore, and fell into blackness with Kirk’s arms rushing to encircle his exhausted body.

x

“Your boyfriend is very stubborn.”

“Thanks.”

Gray images swam before Bones’s eyes, and the quiet beep and hum of machinery whispered in the background.

“He is an incredible player.” The first voice was straightforward. “A natural.”

“Runs in his blood.” The second voice was a murmur. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Thank you. I think he is waking up. I will take my leave. It was nice to meet you, Kirk.”

“You too, Torres.”

Footsteps, leaving. Bones’s eyes fluttered open. “Ugh,” he said, tasting a horrible flavor in his mouth. “Water.”

He was in a colorless hospital room, an IV running into the flat of his hand and restraint cords wrapped snug and secure around his lower legs. Over the glowing osteoregenerator set across his ankle, a TV in the background talked about a break in at a local weapon storage facility. The scent of disinfectant was heavy in his nostrils.

“Right here, Bones.” A hand held a paper cup to his lips. “Your dads are on their way. I think your coach and the PT are going to kill you.”

“We won, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but you’re in the hospital, and your ankle is going to take twelve hours to set.”

Bones grinned blearily at Kirk. “I repeat, ‘We won, didn’t we?’”

Kirk frowned at him. “You should be taking this more seriously.”

“I know, but I don’t feel like it. Who was in here just now?”

“The Valor quarterback. Great girl. Don’t change the subject. You know you’re not supposed to play injured.”

“Christ, there was a minute left and we had thirty yards to go. I’m fine. It’s bein’ repaired, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but next time it could be worse. Bones, you know better than this. That was a very me thing to do.”

“Yeah, you’re rubbin’ off on me. It’s all your fault.”

Kirk was solemn. He put his hand carefully on Bones’s wrist.

“You don’t know how this looks,” he said gently. “You’re all hooked up to a machine. They’ve got your legs restrained so that you don’t kick the regenerator off. You collapsed on the field. Everybody is incredibly worried.”

“Well, I’m worried too,” Bones relented. Kirk looked marginally happier until Bones finished, “about whether or not I can show up for the dance. They’ll let me out by six tomorrow, right?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, yeah. I made a reservation for us at Seeko’s. And I have to go be crowned king, don’t I?”

“What makes you think you’ll win?” joked Kirk, deciding not to be too mad at Bones.

“Oh hell, you were there for the end of it—”

“I’m kidding, Bones; calm down. Of course you’ll win.”

Bones realized he was blushing. “No I won’t,” he muttered, looking away from Kirk.

“Why are you so ashamed of being popular?” Kirk asked curiously.

“I’m not ashamed,” Bones insisted. “I just—I feel like I shouldn’t depend on the opinions of other people so much.”

“It’s impossible not to, though,” said Kirk, sounding like he understood exactly what Bones wanted to say. “We just have ourselves, and the only thing we get from others is a vague idea of what they think of us, but that vague idea means everything because it’s all we’ve got, and whenever the idea becomes really clear—whenever we get ourselves validated by a large number of people—things feel less obscure, I guess.”

“Profound.”

“I try. Now, let’s see if you’re interested in food. Sports heroes have got to keep their strength up.”

x

The doctors let Bones out of the hospital at four o’clock the next day. He had to practically pry himself out of their grip; evidently he could use a few more hours under the osteoregenerator, but he really had to get ready for dinner and the dance, and his ankle was thoroughly healed. Since he was nineteen, he could refuse treatment, and since he was pre-med, he knew that his treatment wasn’t particularly urgent. The reinforcement could be done at any time. 

So, Bones showered and dressed himself carefully in gray slacks, polished shoes, a crisp white shirt and a tie that matched his sky-blue eyes. His coat was cobalt blue, the color of a foreboding storm. He looked dead sexy, if he did say so himself.

x

Uhura decided to spare Spock the details of arranging their dinner and made reservations for two at Pagh, a Bajoran soul-food eatery in downtown. She got to his house at seven forty-five and waited with Amanda and Sarek for Spock to descend from his room.

Amanda and Sarek were dressed in their finest; they were having a number of high-ranking Vulcans over for a late dinner after Spock left. Sarek nodded solemnly to Uhura when she entered the house, and Amanda smiled widely at her and drew her to the side.

“My dear, I just wanted to tell you that I think you’ve been very good for Spock,” Amanda said quietly to Uhura. “I’m proud of you for convincing him to go to this dance; he refused to attend last year. But I wanted to ask you a favor. He’s not—he’s not exactly social. You know him well enough by now to realize that he doesn’t have many friends. I was wondering if you could, perhaps, encourage him to spend time with others of his own age. He adores going to Council meetings with Sarek, but—he needs interaction with his peers.”

Uhura felt guilty. She was well aware that she was keeping Spock away from potential friends so that she could spend more time with him, and thought maybe Amanda suspected this.

“Of course,” murmured Uhura. “I’ll make sure he talks to people tonight.”

“Thank you, dear,” said Amanda, squeezing Uhura’s shoulder kindly. “Here he is,” she added, looking up.

Spock descended the stairs hesitantly. Uhura gulped audibly. He looked incredible. He was wearing a dark gray shirt, a white tie, and black slacks. His black formal jacket was draped over his arm. He smiled shyly at her, the first public display of emotion she had witnessed from him. He thought she looked like an angel in her long white formal gown. It was simple and strapless, with an empire waist and a slit halfway up the thigh.

Sarek looked slightly disapproving of Spock’s timid smile, but said nothing. He merely requested that Spock have an enjoyable fete and that he be home by two AM. 

Amanda straightened Spock’s collar rather tearfully. “Have a good time, dear,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Don’t get in too much trouble. I love you.”

“I love you too, mother.” He squeezed Amanda’s hand, offered his arm to Uhura, and left the house without looking back.

x

“What is this?” said Kirk, staring at the huge golden flower-and-ribbon contraption Bones was holding out to him. Bones turned slightly red and lowered the thing a bit.

“It’s a mum,” he said shortly. “Were I’m from, we make them for our homecomin’ dates. You don’t have to wear it; it’s just a traditional thing.”

Oops. “Er, sorry. I didn’t mean to be culturally insensitive,” said Kirk, accepting the thing. “Just out of curiosity, is it even meant to be worn? It’s gigantic.”

“It’s worn in pictures,” said Bones, shuffling forwards to pin the back to Kirk’s lapel. “I’ve never made one before, so I went a little overboard on this one. Sorry. I talked to my grandmother last week and she insisted I make you one with three carnations on it, which is the traditional blessin’ number—don’t even ask, okay?—and it got a bit out of hand. And now I gotta get a picture of you with it so I can send it to her.”

“Ah,” said Kirk, looking down and realizing he was unable to see his toes. “Hurry. I might fall forwards from the weight.”

“Shut up,” growled Bones, but he was smiling despite his tone.

x

“You’re great,” said Sulu breathlessly and sincerely, “you really are, but—I don’t know. It’s not the same.”

Chapel sighed and turned away from him. “Alright. We’ll stop.”

She reached forward and turned off the holoprojector. They had been playing Taramon, a fantasy holoprogram, but Chapel had reprogrammed it to include some sci-fi elements, including an ansible and instant travel. Chapel and her mother always inserted their own creations into the holoprograms they played, but Sulu liked experiencing the work as the programmer had originally intended.

“We should get ready,” commented Sulu, glancing at the time. “I’m kind of glad we didn’t go out to dinner.”

“Me ‘oo,” said Chapel, her voice muffled by the last honey chapati from their meal. “I olways ‘rop food on me—oop.” As if to reinforce her statement, a drop of honey rolled leisurely out of the end of the rolled-up flatbread and onto her bare leg. “’ammit.”

Sulu handed her a napkin wordlessly.

x

Homecoming, like prom, was held off school property, at the Zetar Hotel. The ballroom was a wide, bright space, full of gold inlay and mirrors and polished beech- and balsa-wood. The psi-electronic DJ hovered over the crowd, asking for requests and interpreting thought patterns with its limited telepathy. 

It had taken most of Uhura’s persuasive skill to prevent Spock from arriving at the dance at nine, when it started. She tried explaining to him that punctuality was frowned upon at human social events such as these, but her protests went mostly over his head, and they got to Zetar at nine-thirty instead of Uhura’s preferred ten, which was a solid compromise, she supposed. There weren’t nearly enough people present, but that ended up being a good thing, since it turned out that Spock was absolutely unable to dance.

Uhura spent about an hour trying to explain and demonstrate freestyle dancing to him and eventually gave up and let herself be led around the room in an expert Viennese Waltz, the only dance he knew, laughing as she tripped over the fast steps. Of course Spock would be excellent at ballroom but otherwise incapable of impromptu dance, she thought. The idea caught on, though, and many of the couples and groups present tried the step with Spock as their patient instructor. The DJ obligingly played some Strauss.

“What the hell?” said Kirk, entering the ballroom with Bones on his arm to find a hundred high schoolers box stepping and promenading with Spock acting the part of the sorcerer’s apprentice near the front of the room.

“Okay, let’s just leave now,” said Bones, trying to move backwards but running into Sulu and Chapel, who were walking in behind them.

“Woah,” said Sulu, putting his hands out to stop Bones. “Careful there. You don’t want to run over the lights.”

“Are you two high?” Kirk exclaimed.

“No!” said Chapel quickly. Then she frowned, pensive. “Well, a little.”

Kirk snorted and then tried to look innocent when Bones glared at him.

“Come on. It’s a school dance,” said Bones, glaring. “If they catch you, we’ll all get it.”

“You are one to talk,” said Sulu, poking his finger at Bones’s chest. “Did you or did you not light up with me on the soccer field a month ago?”

Bones looked like he was going to start yelling, so Kirk wandered away hastily. He found himself leaning against the back wall, watching Spock conduct the waltzers. Uhura was off talking to Rand, glancing back at Spock every once in a while with an indulgent smile on her face.

Bored, Kirk approached Spock. “Having fun?” he asked, coming to stand beside the half-Vulcan.

“I was,” said Spock pointedly, gesturing at one couple to stop them from running into another pair.

“Don’t be snippy, I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

“I note the ‘yet’ with great trepidation, James,” said Spock warily.

Kirk gave him an appeasing smile. “You’re safe.” They were silent for a while as they watched the dancers, who were mostly managing on their own, now. 

After a while, Kirk extended his arm to Spock. “Teach me?” he said, not sure what had come over him, but wanting to learn anyway. The dancers were beautiful in their smooth, clockwise flow around the room; he wanted to emulate their flow, and slip away in the stream of people.

Spock eyed him suspiciously and then gave in. “Place your left hand on my shoulder,” said Spock, taking Kirk’s cool right hand in his. “Elbow bent, please.” He snaked his arm around Kirk’s waist, pressing his hand into the small of Kirk’s back. “The count is 3/4 time.” He said the steps as he pressed Kirk forwards, one foot at a time. Kirk picked up the idea quickly and stopped staring at his feet to grin up at Spock, who was a half a foot taller than he was. 

Spock swallowed. He didn’t think he had ever been this close to Kirk. The boy had incredibly blue eyes.

The song finished and Kirk gently wrestled his hand out of Spock’s grip. “That was fun,” he said sincerely. “Thanks for teaching me. I’ve got to go show Bones how to do that.” He gave Spock another brilliant smile and walked off. Spock watched him go, discomfited.

“Hey,” said Uhura behind him. He turned guiltily, but she was smiling at him. “Want to dance with me?”

“Of course,” he said gracefully, and took her hand.

x

Gaila and Scotty didn’t arrive until eleven, when the dance was in full swing. At eleven thirty, the DJ switched off and Principal Barnett took the stage to announce the king and queen. Bones tried to hide in the back until Kirk found him and dragged him forward to stand with the rest of the court at the front of the audience.

Bones won, of course, as did Gaila. They ascended to the platform amid reverberating acclamation, Bones bashfully and Gaila brashly, and bowed for the coronation. Barnett lowered two borite crowns onto their heads and presented them to the school. Riley, in extreme fangirl mode, nearly swooned when Bones came down to shake his hand first. (Kyle punched him in the ribs.) Gaila dipped Scotty into a thorough kiss, evoking catcalls and the descent of frowning chaperones. 

Sulu, who had evidently designated his house as the official after-party locale, invited just about everybody present to show up at twelve thirty for a continued celebration. Kirk dragged Bones off to obtain more alcohol and Uhura somehow managed to convince Spock to have sex with her in the backseat of her car in the parking lot (and was ridiculously proud of herself about it). Sylvia and Chekov, meanwhile, got to third base, and Sulu and Chapel, both depressed by their situation, relit their high. Scotty and Gaila disappeared to parts unknown and showed up at Sulu’s in different clothes and with mussed hair.

At Sulu’s house, Kirk gave Bones a congratulatory blow job in the bathroom (it was by no means the worst place he had performed fellatio). Chekov nearly walked in on them. Spock and Uhura considered the alcohol Sulu had spread all over his dining room table and decided against it.

“I must return home by two AM,” said Spock, gazing almost sadly at a lone bottle of icewine. “It would be unintelligent of me to consume alcohol at this time.”

“If you won’t, neither will I,” said Uhura loyally. “Come on, let’s find Christine.” She knew that Chapel was good at talking to Spock, since she’d had a crush on him for the majority of the previous year and could carry on long conversations with him. Chapel, while strangely fascinated by Spock’s right ear, nevertheless managed to hold her own with him about the relative merits of subspace radio technology and psionic transmission. Uhura didn’t think Spock realized she was high, which was hilarious in and of itself, since he kept getting these faintly puzzled expressions whenever she would say something particularly non sequitur.

Gaila, about to toss back a shot of tequila, frowned and reached for her thigh. Uhura watched as she removed a vibrating PADD. 

“What is it?” said Uhura, as Gaila’s face twisted when she read the screen.

“My local news alert. Two fire stations near here are on fire,” Gaila said. “KRON says—ow! Jim, get off.”

“Oh, sorry,” said Kirk, hurriedly backing away. He’d fallen hugely over somebody’s foot and straight into Gaila. “I tripped, sorry.”

“Are you drunk already?” said Uhura disapprovingly.

“No!” protested Kirk. “I haven’t even had a beer yet! You are so prejudiced.”

“I am not, I simply—”

“Wait,” said Kirk, looking suddenly alert. “What about fire stations?”

“Two nearby, six and fourteen, they’re on fire,” said Gaila, handing Kirk the PADD. “Ironic, huh? Fire stations on fire. They think it’s arson, of course; how else could two be up in flames at the same time? No luck is that bad.”

Kirk stared at the PADD for a second, then wrestled his communicator out of his pocket and called his mother while Gaila and Uhura stared at him.

“James Tiberius Kirk, it is one in the morning—”

“Mom, are you at home?”

“Of course I am, I—”

“Please just trust me, here—go see if the house is on fire.”

“What?”

“Do it, mom.”

“The fire alarms aren’t going off—” There was the sound of shuffling feet, and doors opening and closing. “I’m outside. No smoke, no fire. What’s this about?”

“I’ll tell you later—keep an eye out, okay?”

“Okay—”

Kirk ended the call and dialed Pike, whose number he had in case of a hoverclub emergency.

“James? What is this about?”

“Mr. Pike, I’m sorry to call so late, but—are you at home?”

“No, why?”

“Does anyone besides you live in your house?”

“James, explain—”

“Please, just answer the question, sir.”

“Well, alright—I live alone.”

“Okay, good. Um, it’s possible that your house is on fire. You should check that out.”

“What?”

“I have to go, sir, I’ll explain later.”

Kirk ended that call, too. Who else, who else? Oh yes—Spock.

Spock was still talking to Christine. Kirk grabbed his shoulder and turned him around unceremoniously. 

“Call your father,” he said, expression completely serious.

“Excuse me?” said Spock, staring at Kirk coldly.

“Do it,” snapped Kirk, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“If I may inquire as to why—”

“On the day of my birth, the main fire station on Calder II was set on fire,” said Kirk, talking faster than usual. “A day before, the Starfleet armory on the planet had been emptied. Two similar events have once more occurred. I suspect Nero. You need to contact your parents and make sure they are safe.”

Spock immediately flipped open his communicator. “Spock to Sarek. Spock to Sarek.”

There was no reply.

Uhura saw Spock’s hand tremble as he closed the lid. “Father always answers.”

“Try your mother.”

Spock did. There was nothing but static on the line.

“It’s a diversion,” whispered Kirk, an expression of horror slowly creeping across his face. “The fire at the stations.”

“We have to go check on them,” said Sulu, who had been listening to the conversation. “Come on. Get in my pickup. We’ll check everything out.”

x


	20. Chapter Twenty: For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky

Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth!  
—James 3:5

There is no pain greater than this; not the cut of a jagged-edged dagger nor the fire of a dragon’s breath. Nothing burns in your heart like the emptiness of losing something, someone…  
—Robert Salvatore

x

Seventeen years ago

Richard Robau rubbed his forehead tiredly. He was nearly done with his paperwork, but an undoubtedly tedious meeting with the science department awaited him in an hour. For a brief moment, he regretted ever accepting command of a Starfleet vessel, but when he looked out of his window and into the hangar where the Kelvin was moored, took in its clean, sweeping lines, and imagined commanding from the captain’s chair in battle, he shook his head at his folly. He could not imagine doing anything but commanding. Robau was made for Starfleet; his spirit was forged in the shipyard and tempered in space. Paperwork was merely an unpleasant detour from the important business of captaining a space ship.

A knock sounded at his door. Robau motioned it open and a nervous ensign tiptoed in, staring at him with wide eyes. “Captain, sir, Base Commander Lin would like to see you, sir,” the ensign squeaked.

Happy to leave his paperwork, Robau followed the ensign out of his temporary rooms and down a few corridors to Lin’s office. The Starfleet base on Calder II was hewn into a cliffside that overlooked a wide lake. Behind the cliffs, a long valley stretched into a broad, thousand-mile plain. The cliffs and the lake were some of the only significant geological features on the planet; its tectonic processes had been dormant for some time, by virtue of its calm and shapely magnetic field. Ten miles from the base, the Romulans had set up a colonial settlement at the edge of the Plains in an attempt to claim the planet. Calder II did not have significant resources other than its rich soil and young, strong sun, but it was a border planet, and both the Empire and the Federation were interested in making it their own.

It was also fantastically positioned along one of the main space trade routes between the Laurentian System and the Solar System. Starfleet had opened a mechanics shop and a small shore leave station in the cliffs to service the merchant vessels that came through. The Kelvin was currently making use of the mechanics shop. It had recently been in a skirmish with a rather vicious superintelligent species, had received severe damages to its warp drive and other important systems, and had limped in to harbor on impulse engines a few days ago for full repairs.

Commander Chelsea Lin was talking hurriedly with a squat, grease-covered Andorian, and motioned apologetically for Robau to wait. The Andorian fished a PADD out of his pocket, handed it to her, bowed wordlessly to Robau, and left.

“I’m sorry about that, Richard,” said Lin, moving behind her desk to set the PADD down. She was a thin Philippine woman with a flat nose and calculating eyes. “Have a seat. We’ve had a very bad break in at our armory. All of the SAMs are missing, and most of the plasma cannons, and of those, the rest have been disabled.” She consulted the PADD on her desk. “A total of forty-seven weapons have gone missing. We’re quite sure it was Romulan work, but we can’t prove it, and we can’t accuse them without proof, since the Romulans are letting their armada wander around right now and it’s passing close to here, so they might choose to come teach us a lesson.”

“I appreciate the gravity of your situation, Chelsea,” said Robau carefully, “but—and not to be rude—what does this have to do with me?”

Lin smiled wryly. “Currently, the only functional heavy weaponry on Calder II is in the Kelvin,” she said. “If there is any kind of Romulan incursion, we’ll have to use your ship to defend the base.” She sighed. “You can’t tell anybody this, but we just got a shipment of settlers.”

“What?” said Robau sharply. “The Federation is going to try to colonize Calder as well?”

“Yes. They’re very concerned about the border planets. They were supposed to send us more heavy weaponry before the settlers arrived, but there was a bureaucratic mix-up, and now we’ve got five thousand men, women, and children to defend without any defenses but the natural protection of this cliff.” Lin paced behind her desk, her sharp shoulders jutting harshly from her back. Her entire frame was tense and worried.

“Five thousand?” exclaimed Robau. But that’s insane, he thought. The Federation can’t just toss settlers at a planet and expect them to thrive. There are only ninety crew at this outpost, not nearly enough to protect five thousand men, women, and children from truculent Romulans.

“Yes. Don’t get me started. I’m going to need you to take your crew off of shore leave. If the Romulans decide to attack because they’ve intercepted a transmission and know about the settlers, or just because they’re belligerent damn Romulans, the Kelvin must be ready to defend the base.”

“Absolutely. I will let my crew know. But remember, the Kelvin is mainly a research vessel. We have powerful phasers, but we’re no Yorktown.”

“You can deal with SAMs and plasma cannons, though, right?”

“Yes, easily, but if the Romulan armada hanging around decides to intervene…”

“We’ll just have to hope they won’t. I’ve sent a message to Starfleet, and they’re sending the Yokohama and the Jakarta, but they won’t be here for two days.”

“Wonderful. Warp speed and we still can’t get places in a reasonable amount of time.”

“You’re telling me.”

A secretary came to the door. “Lieutenant Commander Rokal to see you, Commander Lin.”

“Send him in. Stay, Richard? He’s in charge of security here.”

“You mean, of Romulan espionage?”

“In so many words.”

Rokal was a tall, lean fellow with leaf-green hair and a clever smile. “Captain,” he said, saluting Robau. “Commander Lin. There’s something strange going on. You know how the Romulans have been digging up the yew orchard, near the Hill? I think they’ve found something. There was an explosion there last night, and now it’s swarming with scientists we didn’t even know they had.”

“An explosion? Were any killed?”

“We’re not sure. The spy-bird has a hard time seeing at night anyway, and the glare from the explosion blew out its optical circuits out for a while. We’re also not sure what exactly it is that the Romulans found.” He paused. “You are aware of the legends surrounding this planet, are you not?”

“I am, but he isn’t,” said Lin, nodding to Robau. “Fill him in. I asked him to man the Kelvin in case of an emergency; he should know everything we do.”

“Very well.” Rokal took a breath and settled into storytelling mode. “For as long as there has been space travel, there have been whispers about the Calder system’s decalithium potential.”

“Decalithium—the stuff they can theoretically create red matter from?” said Robau, eyes narrowed. “That’s extremely hard to locate, and even more difficult to mine?”

“Precisely. It is said that the ancient Calderians were able to successfully manufacture red matter—we have never been able to—and tame their planet’s unstable gravitational field by careful application of the final product. The Calderians disappeared a long time ago, as did all of the large mammalian life on this planet, in a cross-species plague, but they were said to have left behind a machine capable of converting decalithium-four isotopes into red matter. This story is merely speculation, but all the same, I would not rule out the possibility that the machine does exist, and the Romulans have found it.”

Robau wasted no time in recalling his crew from shore leave. He felt particularly bad about reactivating two of his senior officers: Christopher Pike was trying to deal with his wife’s abandonment and Julie Eleen’s betrayal, and George Kirk’s wife Winona Lawrence was incredibly pregnant (Robau thought she looked like she was at ten months; the woman was literally about to pop). Pike looked fine—he was a solid man, not prone to unsteadiness or distraction, but Robau knew his officers, and he knew that Pike was still broken up inside. A single week could not have healed him.

Robau felt better back on the Kelvin. He would have preferred a more battle-ready cruiser as his first command, but the Kelvin was a good ship, small and fast and with firepower too impressive to scoff at, even if it wasn’t up to battleship standard. Robau knew that he and the crew of the Kelvin were doing good work. Most of the crew—seven hundred of the nine hundred on board—were science division, and were spread throughout the Kelvin’s cramped labs, working on the secrets of the universe. 

Once Robau reached the bridge, the chief engineer read out the ship’s status. Repair crews were still swarming over the engines and damaged exterior plates. The warp drives were inoperative, decks 6, 7, and 9 were unusable because the hull had been breached in a few places, their shields were at half power, and the autopilot had been completely disabled. A pilot could not even lock onto a target; the Kelvin had to be manually steered wherever it went. Robau fervently hoped that the Romulans would act later, or (ideally) not at all; if they attacked now, when the Kelvin was held together by string and prayers, he didn’t know how much he could do before the ship was reduced to space garbage.

Robau would never find out just how stubborn his ship was.

The next day, no more word had come concerning suspicious Romulan activities. Robau and his entire crew had remained on the Kelvin, which was still in the hangar, helping with repairs and continuing research and doing all of the necessary starship maintenance and upkeep. They had also been constantly scanning the Romulan dig site miles away, but their weakened instruments could not penetrate the tightly packed metamorphic rock between their location and the supposed machine, and they could obtain no useable data. By midafternoon, deck 6 and half of deck 9 were usable again, and major progress was being made on the warp drive, but nothing else had changed. In the late afternoon, Commander Lin reported that the fire station at the lakeshore had caught on fire. Suspicious, Robau ordered a local weapons scan but found no trace of nearby hostiles.

Instead, the Romulans attacked that night. In the middle of calm and silence, the science officer shouted that explosives were coming in low, aiming for the base’s generator, and the bridge crew burst into action. The communications officer contacted Lin and Starfleet rapidly. Kirk, helmsman and first officer, ordered battle stations and red alert.

“Take her out of the hangar,” Robau snapped at the pilot. “Fly low, full shields. Phaser banks, target the SAMs; they’re doing more damage than the plasma cannons.” The cliff face that held the base was crumbling under constant missile fire. 

Lin checked in, her voice almost obscured by the crashings and rumblings in the background. “We’ve got seventy of our men out,” she yelled over the noise of the fortress falling. “Only twenty more to go. The packages are out of the cliff.” That was their code for the settlers, whom the base personnel had successfully moved to an underground bunker a few miles away. “We’ve contacted a passing Vulcan vessel, but they won’t arrive for a few more hours, and it’s a diplomatic craft. Keep covering our backs, and good luck, Richard.”

“To you also, Chelsea,” said Robau before closing the link. The Kelvin rose magnificently above the cliffs, an impressive sight in the bright moonlight despite its pockmarked hull and blackened nacelles. Hundreds of Romulans were gathered in the middle of the valley down below, dashing between hastily-erected weapons. The dig site, machine updug, was a mile from the weaponry. The Kelvin’s phasers fired on the distinctively-shaped SAMs, ignoring the other Romulan armaments. The Kelvin moved forward to fully engage, impulse engines puttering threateningly.

“Captain,” said the science officer quickly, a tinge of panic in her voice. “Three harpoons, shielded, aiming right at us.”

“Evasive!” screamed Robau, but it was too late. The harpoons, illegal and expensive heavy gauge artillery with massive power, exploded towards the Kelvin and impacted solidly. The whole ship rocked, the hull once more breached in multiple places. Pike, loading torpedoes in the weapons deck, was struck squarely by a piece of flying paneling that pinned him to a far wall like an insect. 

“Shields at zero,” said Kirk dully, staring at his readouts. There was a disquieting calm; the Romulan bombardment had ceased. Reports from around the ship flowed in. Casualties were massive. Four phaser banks were out and five decks were destroyed. And then the communications officer said, “Sir, we’re receiving a transmission from the Romulans.”

The bridge went silent. Robau sat up straighter in his chair. “On screen,” he said coolly.

The image flickered, then steadied. Two Romulans, a man and a woman, both heavily tattooed and dressed in formal leathers, stared off of the screen at Robau. The bridge crew glared at them hatefully. The Romulans seemed to draw themselves up, taking on self-satisfied expressions as they noticed the resentment and antipathy in their opponents’ demeanors.

“Captain,” said the woman lightly, a cruel smile playing around her thin lips. “My name is Aemilia, and this is my husband Naeus. We are the governors of this Romulan colony. We require your presence at our residence. If you refuse to come to us, we will fire on your ship with all of our available weapons.”

The science officer’s eyes widened painfully as the Romulan finished speaking. Wordlessly, she sent the data she had just received to Robau’s personal screen, which he glanced over at. The Romulans had just removed cloaking devices from five more harpoons and were aiming them at the Kelvin.

“I will come to you,” said Robau steadily. “Hold your fire.”

“We expect no foul play,” Naeus warned, his voice more solid and cold than Aemilia’s. “We do not react well to surprises.” With that, the Romulans canceled the link.

Robau rubbed his forehead once more, this time in frustration. “Walk with me,” he said to Kirk, pushing himself off of the captain’s chair and stalking off of the bridge, trying not to think that this could be the last time he ever saw it. “If you discover that that machine is what we think it is, do your best to destroy it. I should tell you, there are settlers huddling in an underground bunker near the lakeshore along with the rest of the base crew. More than the ninety base crew lives are at risk. The settlers are five thousand strong. You need to make sure they are safe.”

“When you get back—” Kirk started to say, but Robau cut him off with a gesture. They were walking through devastated areas of the ship, ducking under fallen wires and stepping around fallen debris. The medical staff were hard at work tending to the injured. Robau’s heart was cold at the thought of the dead, and he was silent as he passed cloth-covered bodies. They both saw Pike, being tended to by the CMO herself, but could not stop to inquire about his status. They reached the shuttle bay and Robau turned to Kirk at the elevator doors.

“You’re captain now, Mr. Kirk,” was all he said.

The doors closed. Kirk paused for a moment, utterly still. He felt the heaviness of responsibility settle on him like a mantle. Trying not to think about Winona, or Pike, he returned to the bridge to take the conn.

x

Sulu drove at breakneck speed up and down the thin, hilly residential roads. Spock rode shotgun, paler than usual and utterly silent. Kirk, Bones, and Chekov had stuffed themselves into the backseat of the van. Kirk was on his PADD, reading news reports and trying to think of a way to prove definitively that Nero was behind this.

Spock had tried to insist that nobody need accompany him, but Kirk had just ignored him and gone to Sulu’s van, and Bones had followed Kirk with a you-know-I’ve-got-to-follow-him shrug in Spock’s direction. Chekov thought he might be able to help and was also trying to escape Sylvia, who had gotten a little too drunk. None of them had had any alcohol yet, but Sulu was still high, although he seemed to have shrugged the worst of it off.

A slight orange glow became evident in the night sky as they approached the house. Spock sat up straighter, and Kirk turned off his PADD. Sulu glanced carefully over at Spock as he barreled around a corner. Spock’s hands were trembling, but his face was still.

They turned onto Spock’s street. Chekov gasped involuntarily. The house at the end of the cul-de-sac was in flames that licked high into the stars. 

Sulu had barely stopped the van in front of the house before Spock was out of the car, throwing himself at a dead run towards the front door. Kirk called 911, speaking quickly to an emergency dispatcher. An older Vulcan woman stumbled out of the open front door, coughing heavily, and Bones ran to her, dragging her away from the house with Chekov’s help. Spock was long gone inside the house.

Kirk steeled himself to dash inside, but Bones caught him before he could make a run for the front door. “You can’t go in there,” Bones hissed, clutching Kirk’s arm tightly. “It’s much too dangerous. The smoke—”

Two more Vulcans emerged from the house, one old man and one younger man, the younger man supporting the old one, who was coughing heavily. Bones turned to tend to them, giving one Kirk one last warning look. Chekov went to help Bones, and Kirk focused on Sulu, who cocked his head questioningly at Kirk. Kirk nodded. Sulu nodded too, a suddenly decisive look on his sharp face. Without hesitation, they took off for the house.

Kirk ignored Bones’s frantic yells behind him. He took a deep breath before crossing the threshold of the house, feeling Sulu’s footsteps pounding the ground behind him. Entering the house felt like passing through a warm curtain; inside, the heat beat at him. He paused a few feet into the house, unsure of where to go.

“We need wet cloths, to keep the smoke out of our lungs,” Sulu said, passing Kirk. “The kitchen’s this way.” Sulu had been to Spock’s house a few times before. They jogged through the living room and into the kitchen. This part of the house was safe; no fire was visible, although they could hear the sharp crackle of burning wood and building materiel from other rooms. 

Sulu whipped open a drawer and withdrew two large dish towels. He ran them under the sink, flinching at the burn of the hot metal handle—the ambient heat alone was affecting the part of the house not on fire—wrung them out, and handed one to Kirk. They wrapped the wet cloths around their heads like bandanas and tied them tightly at the napes of their necks. Kirk pointed into the other room, at the stairs, asking Sulu with his eyes if that was the correct direction to go. Sulu didn’t know too much about the house, but he did know that the formal sitting room was upstairs, and that was where everyone would be—he had heard Spock talking about the gathering earlier in the night.

Sulu took a moment to be thankful that he had successfully thrown off his high. He could still feel the effects of the marijuana lingering in his brain, the warmth of the drug continuing to exert a slight, pleasant pressure on his lungs. But since he had to give himself over to the drug, which generally didn’t affect him unless he let it, he was able to snap out his high. He pushed back a spike of searing guilt at the thought that, with less willpower or a more potent dose, he might not have been able to function, and resolved not to smoke for the next month. Plus, he wasn’t too fond of fire at the moment.

The south and west sides of the house were relatively clear of fire, making the area they were in comparatively safe, although the ceiling was starting to dip redly in some places, and the further they got into the house, the more pieces of it were flaking off entirely. The heat was incredible, even away from the main fire; they both felt tempted to continue naked, since the warmth seemed to trap itself in their clothes. But their clothing was their first defense against fire; if it started to burn, it could be shucked of like skin could not.

As they moved towards the stairs, Kirk glanced down a hallway into a long room that looked like an open living area. He could see in the decorative mirrors at either end of the room that the opposite walls were on fire, but not the middle of the room. His stomach twisted; that was clear proof of arson, because fires didn’t leisurely gobble up one wall and then sneak around to the opposite one without going through the center. 

Kirk and Sulu climbed the stairs carefully. The heat was increasing exponentially. Kirk felt as if his bones were fusing slowly into one mass; the heat made his very joints ache and he could no longer even feel his sweat. The landing at the top was a largish hallway, and the wall at the top of the stairs was in flames. Large parts of the ceiling overhead were on the floor. The hallway stretched on either side of them. Sulu motioned Kirk to the right and they walked a few feet straight through a flame-shrouded doorway.

Kirk entered first, saw immediately that this was not the right room (it was a large, elegant bedroom, nothing like a sitting room), and tried to back out, but Sulu had entered behind him, and before they could return to the entrance, half of the room’s ceiling fell in with a massive groan.

Kirk shrieked as a foot-thick chunk of siding struck his chest, knocking him down and burning straight through his shirt to sizzle his flesh. He moved quickly, flexing like a cat, and tipped the siding off of him and onto the floor. Sulu had been peppered with smaller pieces of debris and was still standing, but his shirtsleeve was thoroughly on fire. He dropped and rolled hurriedly, flinching as the flame covering his arm turned upwards to eat at his flesh in its need for oxygen. When it was out, Kirk helped him to his feet, grimacing as he bent over his burned torso. They left the bedroom at a run, without looking back, though Sulu put a cool hand over his crisping skin.

Outside, they retied their still-wet bandanas and moved down the hall, into the heart of the fire. The floor creaked horribly as they tiptoed across it, and pieces of the sky were visible through the flames above them. They could feel the house shudder around them. Sulu shuddered too, afraid of dying here without rescuing anyone and being just another casualty listed on a form somewhere. Kirk was afraid of nothing and pulled Sulu on.

As they came to the end of the long hallway, they heard a shriek. Sulu, who had moved ahead of Kirk because he was lighter and less likely to damage the floor, hurried towards the door, but pulled up short abruptly, his shoes scrabbling on the creaking hardwood. He had seen the floor sloping sharply downwards, into a five-foot hole that revealed another fiery room beneath.

“Watch out!” shouted Kirk, but Sulu had already stopped himself and was backing away.

“Spock!” called Sulu across the gap. “Are you in there?”

“Yes,” came a faint reply through the crackle of burning wood. “There are seven of us, and the hole in the floor—we cannot get out! This room has no windows, and I cannot go through the walls; the ones around us are load-bearing—”

“We’ll get you out,” Kirk yelled to him. “Hikaru, help me—” He ran back a little ways down the hallway, dodging a piece of rafter beam that fell heavily in his path. 

“What are we doing?” Sulu called, trailing after him.

“To get something big enough to go cross that gap,” Kirk replied. “A door—but I don’t see any that aren’t damaged—shit!” His foot had sunk through the smoldering floor and he fell heavily, ankle catching on exposed, burning planking. Sulu skipped around the sunken spot and heaved him up.

“Not a great weekend for ankles,” Sulu commented lightly, but Kirk could see the fear in his eyes. 

The upstairs floor plan consisted of one large hallway shaped like a U, with the stairway leading off from the base. The fire had been started at the back corners of the house, at the tips of the U, and had spread mainly at the back and around the right side. The sitting room was located in the northeast corner of the house, the part that was burning the worst. Kirk and Sulu had been in the right hallway, and the left one that they now entered was more intact. Kirk pointed to a sturdy bedroom door and Sulu immediately started attacking the top hinges while Kirk got the bottom ones.

They got the door down and carried it back to the room, hugging the edges of the walls to avoid sinking through the floor. More of the roof was falling in, and the centers of the floors drooped into the flame eating them from below. They placed the door carefully over the gap. Kirk saw Spock’s head peek around the corner of the doorframe and watch as Sulu gingerly crossed the horizontal door to check its ability to hold weight.

“It’s ready!” Kirk shouted when Sulu had come back across.

Five Vulcans, including Sarek, who was helping one of them, stumbled across, choking on the thick smoke. They all had cloths covering their mouths, but looked the worse for wear—two of them were badly burned, and since they had nothing to douse their cloths in, the smoke had gotten into their lungs anyway. Spock, supporting Amanda, who had severe burns on her left arm and side, came out last. Amanda clutched her son, eyes heavily lidded, clearly in a great deal of pain. Spock’s expression was like nothing Kirk had ever seen—he was all intensity and concern and determination.

Sulu was motioning everybody down the hallway towards the stairs when there was a huge, horrible noise and a wall further down the corridor collapsed, taking twenty feet of floor with it as it fell.

Sulu lurched backwards, colliding with everybody behind him. The floor crumpled around his toes. Sarek, directly behind Sulu, grabbed the boy back from the edge of the hole and dragged him into a room a few feet back down the hall, another bedroom. The other Vulcans, Kirk, Spock, and Amanda followed him hurriedly inside. There was no leaving in that direction.

This bedroom had a sturdier floor than the hallway or the old room the Vulcans had been trapped in, but the roof was beginning to sag. Spock and Sulu moved everyone to the edges of the room, away from the lowest part of the ceiling. The flames covered only one wall, and while the smoke was just as thick, the atmosphere was not as dangerous. Everybody seemed to relax slightly: they had found a safe haven.

“Good, a window,” said Kirk briskly, crossing to it and wrenching it open. He looked down on bare ground fifteen feet away. “We’ll jump if we have to, but I’d rather not.” He flipped open his communicator. “Bones? Pavel? Jim here, come in—”

“Pavel here,” said Chekov’s voice over the communicator.

“You don’t happen to see a ladder, do you? We’re on the right side of the house, second story, and we’re trapped—”

“I have seen one in the garage earlier!” cried Chekov.

“Grab it for me, will you?” said Kirk, leaning out the window and staring towards the front of the house.

“I can do zat!” Kirk could picture Chekov running off to grab it. The thought made him chuckle.

“I fail to see what amuses you, James,” Spock snapped directly behind Kirk. Kirk jumped; he hadn’t realized that Spock was so close to him.

“‘Life does not cease to be funny when people are hurt any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh,’” Kirk quoted, watching at Spock. “There is nothing we can do for the moment but wait for Chekov to bring the ladder around. Why not laugh?”

Spock looked like he wanted to pace out his frustration, but also spare the delicate floor the angry pressure of his feet. He returned to his mother, who smiled slightly at him (thinking what a wonderful pair the two would make someday), and coughed heavily.

Spock put his arm comfortingly around her. “We will be out soon, mother,” he said gently. She kept coughing, but turned her head to rest it against his chest, closing her eyes. He felt a surge of fondness for her, and concern. When he had leapt over the hole in the floor (which had been smaller then) after a mad dash through the house, into the sitting room, the first thing he had seen was Amanda’s burned arm, and the first thing he had felt was a protective dragon roaring in his chest. Sarek, tending to another burn victim, watched them; for a second, a smile teased the corners of his lips, but he suppressed it and shifted his attention to his charge.

Kirk and Sulu were staring at the ceiling, which was hanging lower than ever in the room. Flaming bits of it were dripping off. They were going to have to risk jumping out of the window if Chekov didn’t show up with the ladder soon.

As if he were responding to their brain waves, Chekov rounded the corner at a run, carrying an absurdly large ladder on his back. It was a wide, incredibly practical work ladder, extendable to thirty feet and made out of reinforced lightweight titanium. Chekov set it up directly under the window, punching the lock button on its computer so that the ladder’s legs shot anchors a foot into the ground, steadying the contraption. Chekov climbed up it quickly; there was just enough room for two people to pass each other on the ladder, and he was needed to help the injured out of the window.

Carefully, Sarek and Sulu helped the two other burn victims onto the ladder while Kirk watched the ceiling like a hawk, chivvying people away from the lowest parts. The room emptied quickly until only Kirk, Spock, Amanda, and Sarek remained. Spock and Amanda were about to leave when Amanda tripped over a chair and fell heavily. Sarek impatiently motioned for Kirk to go ahead, following Sulu, who was already halfway down the ladder. Kirk hesitated, but Amanda stood with Spock’s help and they started towards the window, so Kirk ducked his head and climbed down, nodding gratefully to Chekov as he passed him on the ladder.

Sarek followed Kirk, and Spock swung his feet out of the window to settle them on the hard ladder. Spock didn’t like going first and leaving his mother in the room, but since he was trying to get her onto the ladder, Chekov couldn’t help him, and he had to have room for both of them. She reached forwards to take his hand, her eyes sparkling as she took a short breath of fresh air from the open window.

It had held for so long, but the pressure had become too much for its thin beams. With an earth-shattering moan, the roof collapsed.

Spock lunged, his hand closing around her wrist, but it was too late. The room’s entire ceiling dropped, and he forced back his instinct, moving forwards to try and grab her, but her hand was ripped away from his fingers as the heavy ceiling struck her and fell towards the floor. In the last moment, he saw her eyes widen in shock, and her mouth form a word, but before she could finish it, she was gone. There was another horrible noise as the bulk of the ceiling crashed through the floor and the whole mass landed with a heavy thud on the first story.

She was gone.

Chekov’s hand yanked Spock backwards roughly, with more strength than Spock had imagined Chekov had. Spock lowered his outstretched arm, turning his head and raising one arm to shield himself from the sparking debris, feeling Chekov (who had climbed beside him to tug him down) also hiding his face. They descended the ladder together, quickly and smoothly, Chekov trembling like a leaf next him. Spock felt his feet hit the ground. He turned to his father, who was seeing to one of the elder Vulcans, coughing smoke.

Spock realized that Sarek had not seen what had happened. Kirk and Sulu were watching Spock, wide-eyed, and Chekov was taking down the ladder slowly, eyes fixed on the side of Spock’s mask of a face.

I have to tell him, thought Spock numbly, staring at his father’s back. I have to tell him.

“Your health will be restored momentarily,” said Sarek comfortingly to the injured Vulcan. He turned, eyes roving over Spock. “Amanda? Where—”

And he paused, his face suddenly going still when he looked up and saw the hole in the roof.

“The ceiling,” said Spock, in a stronger voice than he knew he had. “The ceiling gave way. I could do nothing.”

Sarek stared at him, completely blank. Spock knew his own expression was identical.

“I see,” Sarek said quietly, and turned back to the other Vulcan.

Spock stood there for a moment. He saw Kirk and Sulu’s expressions go from concerned to angry and figured distantly that he should do something about it. He went to help Bones tend to the other survivors, figuring that Kirk and Sulu would not ambush his father on their own.

“An ambulance is on its way,” Bones told Spock distractedly, his hand behind a Vulcan body to check the woman’s heart rate. “Everyone get out?”

“No,” said Spock shortly, staring at the woman. She was T’Ridu, a friend of his mother’s. She was young—Amanda’s age—and she was also badly burned. She had accompanied her father Sedun to the gathering. Sedun lay unmoving on the front lawn; he had died of smoke inhalation.

Bones looked like he was about to ask who hadn’t made it, but the faint sound of ambulance sirens reached their ears. Bones looked up eagerly. Of the ten Vulcans there tonight, only one had died so far, although everyone who had been in the house needed heavy doses of oxygen, and badly. The ambulance arrived, lights flashing: paramedics tumbled out and dashed around applying portable oxygen masks to everyone’s face. Spock held onto his tightly, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply in, and out, and in, and out, loosing himself in the steady rhythm of his breath. 

x

Robau was dead, his diplomatic mission failed (Naeus and Aemilia had lost their temper and killed him in cold blood) and the Romulan bombardment of the Kelvin had restarted. Above the restricting metamorphic rock, the science officer had finally been able to accurately scan the dig site and state with certainty that the machine the Romulans had uncovered was a maker of red matter. It was synthesizing decalithium currently. It had to be destroyed before it was too late.

But there was a problem. The harpoons had knocked out the Kelvin’s weapons—all of them. There was nothing Kirk could do to dismantle the machine.

No, that wasn’t true. There was something. The warp drives—even when nonoperational—packed a potent punch.

He had ordered a full evac minutes ago, and watched on the main screen as tens of escape pods burst out of their grooves and disappeared as fast as they could into the Calderian atmosphere. Winona, with her usual good timing, had gone into labor at the beginning of the attack, and he was trying not to think about the only option he had left, but he had to think about it, because it was what he was about to do. The escape pods had so far used their meager weapons to great effect against the SAMs (the Romulans were saving the harpoons for the Kelvin), but that wouldn’t last—he knew the Romulans would start really trying to shoot them down soon, unless he did something drastic.

He ran a quick reading on the lifeforms on board the Kelvin. A few of the very badly injured remained, bleeding their last on lonely decks. There was nothing he could do for them except end their pain quickly.

He spoke into the communicator—asked her about the child. “A boy,” she said, “a beautiful boy—Tiberius, for your father?”

Even now, he laughed (life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh), and insisted on James, her father’s name. He closed his eyes as the baby—James Tiberius—gurgled and wailed, imagining what the son he would never see looked like. His hands had already found the helm controls. He was steering, maneuvering downwards despite the tears pouring like waterfalls from his eyes, aiming for the dig site, over which antlike Romulans scurried.

“I love you both,” he called into the communicator, watching as the ground and the dig site approached at incredible speed, “I love y—”

Fire consumed him.

The baby shrieked at the harsh, screaming noise that came out of the communicator open on his mother’s palm. Winona sobbed into James Tiberius’s thin, pale scattering of hair.

On the planet, a crater and debris was all that remained of the Romulans, the machine, and the Kelvin. Smoke uncurled from the aftermath, drifting into the air lazily, twisting into pretty patterns and shapes. Fires burned unchecked on the planet’s surface, eating the bodies of the Romulans and licking at the scraps of ship metal that littered the field.

A few hours later, a Vulcan man took a Romulan baby into his arms and promised to bring him home.

x

“Spock,” whispered Kirk, touching Spock’s shoulder.

Spock looked up at Kirk with glassy eyes. Kirk tried to convey in one expression all of the sympathy and grief and compassion he had, and might have succeeded, because Spock allowed Kirk’s hand to remain on his shoulder, and after a while, covered it with his own.

x


	21. Chapter Twenty-One: Errand of Mercy

Bones knew something was wrong when he realized that Kirk wasn’t flirting with the nurse who was applying salve to the burn on his chest. The woman was about twenty, blonde, ample-chested, dewy-eyed, and basically massaging lotion onto his pecs, and he wasn’t flirting with her. Bones had a mental image of porcine figures winging their way over the Golden Gate Bridge.

“Is he okay?” Bones asked the nurse worriedly, hurrying up to the two of them. Kirk was perched on the edge of a doctor’s table in a long, partitioned room filled with patients afflicted by non-severe injuries. Bones had been recruited by one of the paramedics (Beverly, in fact) to help with T’Ridu’s burns and had just gotten to the hospital.

She gave him an incredulous look. “It’s just a first degree,” she said. “He’s fine. He doesn’t even need any pain meds. Why?”

Bones didn’t know quite how to say, “Because he’s not trying to motorboat your hooters,” without sounding disrespectful, so he chose not to answer the question. Instead, he put his hand on Kirk’s bare shoulder. “What is it?” Bones asked him. The nurse finished rubbing in the salve and moved off to tend to other patients.

“You don’t know?” said Kirk, looking at him with hollow eyes. “Amanda died.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bones said, stepping back. “What? She did?”

“Yeah.” Kirk looked haunted. “The ceiling fell in. She was the last one out.”

“Shit,” whispered Bones. “How’s Spock?”

“Well, actually, he seems fine right now—he’s with, uh, Vokos, I think his name is? The other Vulcan with burns. Sarek kind of pissed me off; he didn’t look sad at all, and he didn’t go comfort Spock.” Kirk swallowed. “Spock had to tell him. Sarek hadn’t seen.”

“Shit,” Bones repeated, running a trembling hand through his hair. “Can you imagine? God. Aren’t you glad you don’t have him as a father?”

Kirk gave him a look, and Bones realized what he had said.

“Jim—” 

Kirk shook his head. “It’s okay, Bones.”

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine.”

Sulu and Chekov chose that moment to enter the room. Sulu was sporting a big white bandage on his arm and Chekov was watching him closely, as if he suspected Sulu were about to break.

“Hey,” said Sulu shortly to Kirk and Bones. He heaved himself up onto Kirk’s table. “How are you, Jim?”

“Good,” said Kirk. “Just got a first degree burn. You?”

“Same. Stings a little.” Sulu smiled flatly at him. “Listen, man, I’m sorry I’ve been so mean to you lately—” His eyes flicked to Chekov and back. “—but, as it turns out, you’re a great guy.” He held out his hand. “Friends?”

Kirk took it. “Absolutely,” he said seriously. “You were damn brave, back there.”

Sulu snorted. “As if,” he said, stretching his arm. “I was convinced the house was gonna collapse at any second. I probably pissed my pants, but the heat was so intense the evidence evaporated.”

Kirk laughed. He needed to laugh. Sulu leaned on him slightly, the thin warmth of his uninjured arm kind against Kirk’s cold, bare back. They looked each other and smiled without smiling. If you run through a burning house with somebody, you can’t help but come out knowing them a bit better.

There was a commotion at the entrance to the long ward and Spock strode through the door purposefully, closely followed by two angry-looking nurses. He was clearly trying to ignore them, but could not manage to do so for long; midway through the room, the shorter nurse, a stocky brown-haired man, swept in front of him and stood in his path. Spock looked down his nose at him.

“Move,” he said, enunciating the word in much the same manner as Alan Rickman, rolling the sounds around his lips and pushing them into the air with scarily deliberate slowness.

“No,” said the nurse shortly. “If you don’t let us look at that burn, I’m going to have to get the restraints.”

Spock glared at the man for a full minute, his nostrils flaring, before turning on his heel and stalking over to the bed beside Kirk and Sulu. He sat stiffly on it and bored a hole in the wall in front of him.

Kirk, Bones, Sulu, and Chekov, as one, leaned around the screen to stare at Spock. The sight would have been comical if Spock had a sense of humor at the moment.

“Jacket off,” said the male nurse, snapping on latex gloves with no small amount of menace. The other nurse, a tall brunette, brought the male nurse a tube of the same stuff they had treated Kirk and Sulu’s burns with.

Spock did not move.

“Jacket off,” the male nurse repeated.

Kirk frowned at the jacket. Spock hadn’t been wearing it earlier, he thought—or had he? It didn’t look like it was his; it was stiff and formal and did not match his other clothing. 

Spock said something very quietly.

Frowning, the male nurse leaned forward. “What?”

“I cannot remove it,” snapped Spock, pinching his ear in frustration. “I would have to—to shift my shoulder blades in a direction that would do much more harm than good.”

The male nurse’s eyes widened. He snatched a pair of scissors from a drawer and delicately cut the jacket off, slicing the coat down the center seam. His eyes widened when he saw what lay underneath.

“Second or third degree,” he snapped to the female nurse. “Get me the dermal regenerator and an MD; I’m not qualified for this. Lay down,” he added to Spock. “You’re going to have severe scarring from this! You should have gotten it treated immediately.”

Spock did not reply. He was busy trying to lower himself onto his stomach without bending his back. The nurses, realizing his predicament, helped him, their hands kind despite the disapproval on their faces.

Kirk and the others finally saw the severity of the burn. The entire left side of Spock’s back was a deep, shining viridian. The flesh visible was charred dermis, the second layer of skin, glistening and weeping. His individual ribs showed pale white through his thin flesh, and a third of the way down his back, the pulse of his heart was clearly visible.

The nurse plunged a hypospray into Spock’s neck. Spock did not show any sign of being in pain. He removed his glasses and pressed his face into the table, allowing the nurses to work. A doctor rushed over, blinking at the severity of the injury and ordering the nurses to fetch various medicines and machines.

Kirk felt sick. When had Spock gotten the burn? Why had he not mentioned it to anybody? Was it just because he was unable to show it to anyone? He saw Chekov staring at the floor, and Sulu focusing on the doctor, rather than what the doctor was working on. Bones, of course, looked mesmerized.

Spock closed his eyes as the doctor ran the warm dermal regenerator over his back. His reason for keeping silent about the injury was simple: he wanted the pain of it to last as long as possible. He deserved it.

x

Uhura’s communicator beeped and she swiped it immediately off of the table. It had been an hour and a half since Spock and the others had left and she was extremely worried.

“Hello?” she said.

“Nyota? It’s Hikaru.”

“Oh, finally. What—?”

“There was a fire,” said Sulu quickly, cutting her off. “We’re at the hospital.”

“The hospital? Is everyone okay?” Is Spock okay? was her unspoken question.

“Uh, no, actually. Nyota—” Nausea. What was he going to say? God, what if Spock was hurt, or dead… I didn’t know what I would do. “—it’s Amanda. She’s dead.”

A quick wave of relief swept through her, followed shortly by shame, then a terrible sadness. “Oh, God.”

“The ceiling fell in. Two others died. Spock’s not exactly okay; he has a pretty bad burn on his back. He’ll be fine, physically, but—you should really come up here.”

“Okay—okay, yes, absolutely. Of course.” Uhura stood, staring around blindly for her purse and keys. “I’ll be right there.”

“Get Scotty to take you. And hey, tell Christine I love her, okay?”

“Okay,” said Uhura, not really listening. “See you.”

Uhura found her purse and grabbed the back of Scotty’s shirt, dragging him rudely away from Gaila. “Wha—?” he protested until he saw her expression. “What happened?” he asked instead.

“Amanda died,” said Uhura thickly, trying not to burst into tears. She bit her lip.

Chapel’s communicator went off and she picked it up. It was Sulu again, asking Chapel very nicely if she would have mercy on him: did she mind roping the partiers at his house into cleaning it up a bit and then getting out, since his parents were coming home from visiting his sister Miko in Seattle because the hospital had notified them that their insurance was being used. Uhura remembered what he’d said at the end of their conversation and mentioned that to Chapel, who agreed that she could manage everybody and smiled a little at Sulu’s declaration of love. Gaila started the process by physically removing everybody who was too drunk to be productive. She was very persuasive.

Scotty and Uhura drove to the hospital.

“This is weird,” Uhura muttered thickly. She wasn’t actively crying, but there were salty tears running down her face, and she’d destroyed a couple of Kleenexes. “She shouldn’t be dead. She was just talking to me, hours ago.”

Scotty quoted a passage from one of their favorite books. “‘She had a silly impulse t’ add, But she was alive an hour ago! And she stopped herself, because death is like that: people are alive until they die.’ Everyone feels like tha’, Nyota.”

“‘People are alive until they die…’ I can’t imagine being alive when I die. What must it be like? Do you know what’s coming?”

“I dunno, lass. Best not dwell on it. Ah never do; your mind gets t’ hurtin’ if you stare so hard at somethin’ you cannae see.”

By the time Uhura and Scotty reached the long ward, Spock’s doctors had finished with him and set a large dermal regenerator over his back to run for a couple of hours. Kirk was fast asleep, curled up in Bones’s lap, and Chekov was supporting a very tired Sulu, who would have liked to go to sleep, but was too busy dreading his parents’ arrival. 

“Spock,” whispered Uhura, walking over to him. He was lying on his stomach, the dermal regenerator humming softly over him, facing away from her. Hesitantly, she brushed his flat hair with the tips of her fingers. His hands clenched on the bed and she walked around to see his face.

He looked up at her. She wasn’t sure what she saw in his eyes, but it scared her.

She knelt down in front of him, bringing her head level to his. She kissed him lightly on the forehead and twined her fingers around his.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly.

He swallowed, and nodded stiffly. The stiffness came from how little he had been moving, not from any (more) reservation (than usual) on his account.

“Thank you for coming to see me,” he said slowly. “I do not feel—quite—correct, right now. I am not… fine.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s empty, isn’t it? That’s how I felt when my mother died.”

Spock hadn’t known that her mother was dead. He squeezed her hand.

“They’re going to transfer me to a room, soon,” he said. “James and Hikaru are coming with me. They’re not discharging any of us until the morning, since they’re worried about the affects of smoke inhalation.” He paused. “You don’t have to stay.”

“Of course I’m staying,” she said gently. “Leo and I will keep you company.” She hadn’t asked Bones if he was staying, but judging by the expression on his face as he looked down at Kirk, drooling on his lap, he might never leave Kirk’s side again.

Chekov nudged Sulu. “Hikaru?” he said apologetically. “I am wery sorry, but I must go soon.”

Hikaru struggled to sit up. “What? Why?”

“My parents expected me home at one thirty,” said Chekov. “I have missed exactly forty-six calls from them.”

“But—you’ve been here for like, an hour, with me—why haven’t you called them back?”

Chekov blinked at him. “You needed me,” he said simply. “I could not go.”

Sulu didn’t know what to say to that, so he hugged Chekov tightly. Chekov hugged him back, burying his face in Sulu’s neck.

“I was afraid you would not come out,” he said, his voice muffled. “I am glad you did.” He kissed Sulu on the cheek and Sulu was forcibly reminded of last weekend, after the hovercar race, when Chekov had done the same thing. “I must go,” Chekov said. He hugged Sulu again. “I will come see you tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes,” breathed Sulu. “Please do.”

Chekov smiled at him and left.

The nurses moved Kirk, Spock, and Sulu into a large, private room with plenty of space for Bones and Uhura to spread out. Kirk wasn’t badly injured, so Bones climbed into bed with him, figuring the nurses wouldn’t mind. Uhura couldn’t fit on Spock’s bed—the dermal regenerator was too large, so she fell asleep in a chair she pulled up next to him, her face leaning next to his. They each breathed the other’s air.

x

Chapel and Chekov hugged each other tightly. They had just finished cleaning Sulu’s house and were about to leave when they heard a car in the drive. Everyone else had left fifteen minutes ago, having finished with the cleanup, but Chapel had noticed a stain on one of the couches and Chekov had stayed to help her with it. (He had come back to Sulu’s for his keys and wallet, having called his parents and gotten an extension on his curfew with an explaination of the situation.) Eventually they just flipped the cushion over; neither of them were geniuses at getting out stains. Chapel had been hard-pressed just to know how to use Chlorox wipes on the counters and Chekov couldn’t even pronounce “Chlorox.”

They heard the door open, and footsteps. A tall Japanese woman stuck her head around the frame and saw Chapel and Chekov standing awkwardly next to the kitchen counter. Her eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked sharply. She was clearly not Sulu’s mother; she was much too young.

“Hikaru invited us over, earlier,” Chapel said, standing up straighter and sticking out her lip stubbornly. “You can ask him. We were about to leave. He just called us from the hospital to let us know what was going on.”

“You’re friends of his?” She surveyed them critically. “Well. You must be Pavel,” she said to Chekov. “And you’re—Christine?”

Chekov and Chapel stared at her.

“I’m his sister, Miko. Nice to meet you. You did a good job cleaning up. I take it he had a wild party after homecoming?”

No reply. Miko smiled at them—it might have been a smile. The expression was rather feral.

“I taught him that. Me and Inoue used to trash the house when the ‘rents were out of town. You don’t have to jump like mice, you know. I’m not going to bite you. That’s mom and dad, and they’re over at the hospital, probably yelling at Ru for being heroic. I dropped by to get him a change of clothes and the necessities. You are Pavel and Christine, right?”

“Y-yeah, I’m Christine,” Chapel managed. Miko was like a whirlwind. She was brisk, self-assured, and incredibly beautiful. “And this is Pavel.”

“I have heard so much about you,” Miko said to Pavel, giving him another alarming smile. She set her gigantic purse down on the kitchen island and pulled up a stool. “How old are you, though, like twelve?”

“I am sixteen,” said Pavel indignantly, sweeping his curls out of his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” said Miko skeptically. “Hikaru’s nineteen. Keep that in mind.” Her eyes focused on something to Chapel’s right, on the counter, almost hidden behind a flour canister. “Wow,” she said, getting up and crossing over to it. She picked it up carefully. “Is this a dime bag?” She opened up the baggie and sniffed it carefully. It had a small quantity of white powder in it, barely a fourth of a gram. “This is a dime bag. Huh. Is it either of yours?”

Chekov and Chapel both looked confused. “What is it?” Chapel asked. “It’s not mine.”

“It’s cocaine,” said Miko, staring at the substance. Chekov’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t know Hikaru was into the hard stuff. Radical.” She retied the bag and put it in her pocket. “You two aren’t druggies, then?”

Chapel pulled herself up. “I’ve never taken an illegal substance in my life,” she said tightly. 

“Don’t get all high and mighty on me. And definitely don’t dis until you’ve tried it. Still, cocaine—kind of intense. Don’t worry about it, you two. I’ll deal with him.” The smile was back. Chekov felt like hiding. “I’ve got to get those clothes and head up to the hospital. Thanks for cleaning up in here. The place looks great. You two must be good friends.” She waved them towards the entrance. “I’ll see you later. Nice to meet you. Bye.”

Outside, Chapel took a few steps towards her car and stopped. She turned to Chekov. “Did you know about that?” she said sharply, referring to the cocaine.

Chekov shook his head energetically. “I did not,” he said. “Do you think it is his?”

“Well, I don’t know. It makes sense that it is, but there were all kinds of people there tonight. He does do a lot of pot, and everybody knows it’s a gateway drug…” She trailed off. “I just—it seems a little uncharacteristic.”

“It does,” Chekov agreed. “If it was not his, zen whose was it?”

Chapel shrugged. “Inquiring minds really want to know.” She paused, her hands in her pockets. “Miko was kind of scary, wasn’t she?”

“Kind of—dear Lord,” said Chekov faintly. “Her eyeliner looked like it wanted to eat me.”

Chapel laughed. “Hikaru had mentioned that she was a bit… sharp, but I had no idea.” She glanced at her PADD. “I really should go home.” She waved to Chekov as she got in her car. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“You too,” Chekov called back. He set off to find his bike, happy that he didn’t live very far away. He was not worried about Sulu. Chekov knew that the drug wasn’t his. How, he wasn’t sure, but Sulu simply did not, as Chapel had said, seem like the type.

x

The male nurse from before came into the room, looking puzzled. Sulu had just woken up because his PADD had buzzed (a text from Inoue, making sure he was okay) and saw the man standing framed in the doorway. Sulu’s eyes adjusted, and when he could see the nurse’s expression properly, he realized that his parents were here.

“Hikaru Sulu?” the nurse whispered to him, crossing to his bed. “Your guardians are outside—I think they want to talk to you.” He sounded hesitant. Sulu wondered what they had said to the nurse. 

He heaved himself out of bed. His brain was beating a sophisticated yet raucous symphony on the interior of his cranium, his arm felt like death itself, and his lungs were still burning from the smoke. He really didn’t feel like dealing with them right now.

“What time is it?” he groaned to the nurse.

“You don’t want to know,” said the nurse wisely. 

“Crappy shift,” Sulu commented sympathetically.

“Lost a bet. I’m generally here weekdays only. Need any help?”

“Got it. Thanks, though.”

The nurse led him outside, and sure enough, there were good ol’ mom and dad. They didn’t look much like Hikaru—he was taller than either of them, and they both had silvering hair. Their features were different, too: where Hikaru had thick eyebrows and a wide forehead, their faces were small and rather pinched, less open than his.

“Hikaru, we heard that you purposefully entered a burning building,” Mr. Sulu began right off. He didn’t even wait for the nurse to walk away (the nurse did so quickly, shooting Hikaru a “good luck, man” look). “You have always been impulsive and rash, but we did not expect your actions to become—suicidal.”

“We are starting you in counseling on Monday,” Ms. Sulu said briskly. “Now, we also heard that you burned your arm. How irresponsible! I suppose the wonderful Medicare program took care of it.” She and Mr. Sulu exchanged black glances. “How the Federation expects to minister to every scummer and drug addict who come crawling into their flea-ridden public hospitals is beyond me… You should have insisted on being taken to Barrow, rather than—here.” Barrow Wellness Center was a private hospital staffed by the best and stuffiest doctors money could buy. Hikaru hated the place. “Galactic peace is one thing, but galactic healthcare is another entirely.”

Mr. Sulu started up again. “Hikaru, if you continue to pull stunts like this, people will not want to hire you as a pilot. And if you are still insisting that you would like to enter Starfleet” (He said the name like a curse word.) “as a pilot, then keep in mind that they do not look kindly on reckless actions. In fact, both your mother and I would go so far as to say that this indicates that you would make a terrible pilot. Being impetuous is not a positive trait for—”

“Why would either of you have any idea if I’m a good pilot or not?” Hikaru interrupted poisonously. “For your information, I’m amazing. You know I’m teaching classes at the airport, right? You stuck your noses into my life long enough to notice that I was making my own money and buying my own food, right? I’m sure that’s all you noticed, though.”

“We were aware of your—job,” snapped Ms. Sulu. “Not that we think it is appropriate for a mere eighteen year-old to be teaching people how to fly. You realize that what you say or don’t say could get somebody killed, don’t you?”

Hikaru was quiet for a moment, staring at them, nostrils flared in anger.

“You just came so that you could say to your friends you checked up on me, didn’t you? You don’t actually care how I am.”

“Miko told us we had no choice but to come with her,” Mr. Sulu said coldly. They had been visiting her in Seattle. “We took the first flight down. It was unnecessarily expensive.”

“Fine,” snarled Hikaru, beyond furious. He stalked back to the door to his room, then stopped, whirling around. “Do you even know what the seventh was?” he said, referring to last Wednesday’s date. His parents were clearly confused. “Of course not,” he spat. “I’m nineteen, now. It was my birthday.”

They didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. Disgusted, he went back into the room.

Miko showed up a half an hour later. Hikaru hadn’t gone back to sleep yet; he was still raging internally. She beckoned him into the hallway after assuring him that they were gone.

“They went back to the house,” she said. “Guess they figured they did their duty.” She hugged him tightly. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said sincerely. “You’re my favorite brother, you know that? I would have had to go beat that fire up if it had killed you, and it probably would have hurt me, and we can’t have that, can we?”

He smiled at her, feeling much better. “I’m your only brother, dummy. And no fire could hurt you.”

“Psh. You’ve never seen me around a stove. Scars, Ru, scars. Remind me to show you my lower back some time. Acrobatic sex in the kitchen, a la Lust, Caution? Not a good idea, however awesome Ang Lee is.”

“Wow, I seriously did not need to know that.”

“Sorry. Occasionally I over-share. I heard you saved some lives, to restore the subject. My little hero!”

“I—I helped get people out, yeah.” Sulu paused. He had wanted to talk to somebody about this for a while. “My friend Spock—it was his house that burned down. His mom died, and so did two other people, so the rescue—it wasn’t a complete success.” Hikaru swallowed. “I actually watched her die, Ko. She was trying to climb through a window and the ceiling fell in on her. Right in front of Spock.”

“My God,” said Miko, hugging Hikaru close again. “You poor boy. That poor boy. He’s the Vulcan with the dermal regenerator over his back, isn’t he? With the beautiful black girl curled up next to him?”

“Yeah,” Hikaru nodded. He felt like a little of the weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He thought of Inoue, suddenly, who had texted him earlier. “Inoue said she was leaving early with Sh’ragh, just to come see me,” he said. “That’s so like her. Did you tell her about the fire?”

“I did. I knew mom and dad wouldn’t. She was going to come straight here, but I convinced her not to—she really has to finish up the semester before she and Sh’ragh come back for the wedding.”

Hikaru smiled. “I can’t say I’m used to the idea of her getting married, much less to a Klingon, but she always was the wild one, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah, actually, can I ask you about that?” Miko got a serious look on her face as she fished around in her purse for something. She held up the cocaine. “Is this yours?”

“What is—oh, wow. No, it’s not. Why did you think it was mine?”

“It was on the kitchen counter at home,” Miko said, watching Hikaru’s face closely. “I dropped by to grab you some clothes.” She passed him a bag, which he took distractedly. “Nobody you know does coke?”

“Well, yeah, I know some people, but I seriously doubt they were at the party. They’re not really homecoming types, you know? Also, should you have that out at a hospital?”

Miko shrugged and put the baggie back in her pocket. “It’s oh my god in the morning and the nurses around here have probably seen worse,” she said carelessly. “You’re sure it’s not yours?”

“Positive,” said Hikaru fervently. “I’m not insane.”

“And you don’t know who is? Because if you do, you should talk to him or her.”

If he were honest with himself, Hikaru knew who it was, but he was in no position to do anything about it at the moment. “I don’t know who it could be,” he said firmly. “But I’ll keep an eye out.” He yawned. “Mind if I try to sleep?”

“Go ahead. I’m going to go back to the house, too. Call me when you wake up, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

They hugged. “Thanks for coming,” he said.

“Anytime, little bro,” said Miko. “Missed ya.” She twinged his nose and left.

He had an easy time falling asleep after that, and thankfully, he didn’t dream.

x

Early in the morning, Sarek came to see Spock.

It was seven AM. The nurses had taken the dermal regenerator off about thirty minutes ago so that he could walk around and stretch some. It would need to be left on for another few hours. As soon as Kirk and Sulu woke up, they could be discharged, but they were both heavily asleep on their beds. Kirk and Bones were wrapped entirely around each other in a way that made Spock’s heart hurt when he saw them. Uhura was asleep, too. He wanted to stroke her hair, but he did not wish to wake her. There were deep circles under her eyes. Even in her sleep, she looked worried.

Sarek stood in the doorway, a still apparition in the nurses’ energetic wake. Spock stood stiffly and walked over to him, wrapping a paper robe around himself—he was wearing only his pants from last night; his shirt had been half-burned off of him and the jacket, of course, had been destroyed. His pants were singed, but they smelled like home, even though smoke curled from them—an apt scent metaphor, if such things existed. He couldn’t possibly trade them for more sanitary paper leggings. 

Sarek had found new clothes somewhere. “T’Zura brought them,” he said, holding a package out to Spock. There were clothes for him, too; light cotton pants and a loose shirt. Spock placed them on the chair next to the door.

“How are Vokos and T’Ridu?” Spock asked.

“They are recovering successfully,” said Sarek. They had moved into the hallway and were standing against the wall near the door, out of the way of the continuous stream of traffic. “T’Ridu will be discharged in a few days. She has not yet been informed of her father’s death. She is still under heavy sedation. Issika will tell her, when it is time.” Issika was T’Ridu’s mother. “Vokos will be discharged tonight or tomorrow. The doctors are not interested in accuracy.” Sarek sniffed, and Spock could tell what he thought about human doctors and their imprecise, bloody caretaking. Spock liked human doctors more than Vulcan ones, since the worst times of his life had been spent in a Vulcan hospital. He preferred the cool but personal hands of human doctors, not the uncomfortably hot and detached touches of Vulcan physicians.

“The house is gone,” said Sarek.

Spock fixed his eyes at a point slightly past Sarek’s shoulder.

“There was no body to recover. Ashes were collected after a DNA sample,” Sarek said.

There was an urn, somewhere, filled with black char, filled with her. It seemed so wrong.

“It was arson,” Sarek said.

Spock had been trying to keep that thought out of his head. “Really.” Of course it was. He had seen the same thing Kirk had—two fires spreading from two different directions.

“Yes,” Sarek said. “The fire was set at the back corners of our house. The investigators are not sure who set it, why, and how, but it was set.”

Spock did not say anything. He was not sure he could. He wanted to go scream somewhere, or better yet, rip someone into very small, very bloody pieces.

“I have already been discharged,” Sarek said.

Spock felt a moment of irrational anger towards his father. Sarek said, Sarek said. Sarek did not scream, or yell, or sob, like Spock wanted to. Did Sarek even want to do those things? What was he thinking? Did he give a damn about his dead wife?

“When you are discharged, we will go to T’Pau’s residence,” Sarek said. “She has readied two rooms for us. We are to live with her until our house is rebuilt.”

Spock nodded shortly. He had expected that.

Sarek’s communicator beeped. He said a short goodbye to Spock and moved down the hallway to take the call.

Spock marched back into the room. Uhura was still asleep, halfway on his bed. He stood feet away from the bed, staring at her, thoughts whipping around his head like a whirlwind. Who did she think she was, to stride in and tell him he knew how he felt? And Kirk and Bones—he glared them. They were entangled in each other disgustingly. Didn’t they have any regard for decency? He couldn’t think of anything to hate Sulu for, so, quite illogically, he hated him simply for that. 

He sat heavily on his bed, not caring if he woke Uhura. She shifted and yawned, sitting up, her hand scrabbling around on the bed until it found his. She turned to him sleepily, a lazy smile on her face. He glared at her.

She blinked, clearly taken aback. Then, her face softened, and she rubbed his hand. He immediately felt bad, not to mention inappropriately aroused because of the nearly obscene contact. She evidently understood him completely and was already willing to forgive his bad mood.

But—he didn’t feel anything emotionally when she touched him. He felt, more than he ever had, scorn for her blind, illogical interest in him, her slavering devotion. For a second, he did not know why he was with her in the first place.

No! He pulled away from her. His emotions were going all over the place. He couldn’t—shouldn’t—do anything drastic in such a state. She looked confused, and he just shook his head at her. She shrugged, stroked his hand again (he shuddered involuntarily), and curled back up to go to sleep.

He watched her, but something slight had shifted in the past few minutes. He did not want to brush his fingertips over her hair. He did not want to kiss her and touch her and curl up next to her. He wanted to run very far away from her and hide behind something so that he would never have to look at the way she looked at him again.

x

Winona accidentally woke everybody up when she came to get Kirk later that morning. She had always been klutzy, and she had passed some of that on to Kirk, but she had kept quite a lot for herself. She tripped immaculately over a taped-down electrical cord near the entrance and brought a case of hyposprays down with her. She was uninjured, but Spock’s sensitive ears were ringing for minutes afterwards.

All five of them sat up hurriedly, quite awake. Kirk leapt out of bed to help her up, but Winona was already on her feet, brushing herself off busily and acting like nothing had happened. Bones tried to hide a snort of laughter but couldn’t quite manage. She shot him a slit-eyed glare. Uhura and Sulu made faces at each other until their giggles had passed. Spock, of course, did not understand what was so funny.

“I’m here for Jim,” said Winona stiffly. “You guys can go back to sleep now.” And then she caught sight of Spock and walked straight over to him and hugged him, very tightly, without seeming to move at all. It was as if she were in the center of the room at one moment and suffocating him the next. He made a slightly deflated noise and tried to extract himself from her freakishly strong grip, but she took that as an attempt to hug her back and hugged him even harder, and Sulu was dying of asphyxiation from not laughing not laughing.

Finally, Winona backed off, and everybody was relieved to see that Spock merely looked discomfited, not pissed, and had actually understood what she was trying to tell him with her physical gesture. For a split second, when he saw how (comparatively) mild Spock’s expression was, Kirk thought he might like Spock just a little, but it passed as soon as Bones’s hand touched his thigh.

“Mind if I get a ride home with you?” Bones asked gruffly. His hair was sticking up like thatch. “Dad picked my car up from Hikaru’s and was goin’ to come get me, but I think I’d rather not interrupt his Saturday off.”

“I’d love to drive you,” said Winona, smiling brilliantly. “Hikaru? Nyota? Do you need rides?”

Sulu shook his head. “My sister Miko’s on her way,” he said, holding up his PADD.

Spock and Uhura were conferring. Their conversation has gone like this:

“Nyota, my father has informed me that I will be staying at the residence of T’Pau, a Vulcan currently living on this planet. We will be leaving the hospital after the dermal regenerator has finished its course. There is no need for you to stay with me.”

Uhura frowned. “I’d like to stay, Spock,” she said. 

“But I would be more comfortable if you were to return to your home.” He played an unfair card. “You are tired, Nyota. You should sleep.”

“Spock, I can’t leave you—”

I wish you would. “You can. You must. Thank you for staying the night. I will call you later today.”

She relented. “Okay, fine. I love you, Spock.” She kissed him, hesitating when he did not kiss her back. 

“Goodbye, Nyota.”

He did not know how cold his eyes were.

x

Awkwaaard, hummed Kirk to himself. He was in the passenger seat of his mom’s car with Bones and Uhura in the back, and he was pretty sure Uhura was upset.

Winona was on the communicator with Sam. Kirk glanced in the rear view mirror. Uhura was biting her lip and staring blindly out of the window. Oh, crap, thought Kirk sympathetically. Tears coursed down her cheeks. She was utterly silent, and Bones, who was only observant when he wanted to be, had no idea what was going down in the seat next to him.

Kirk whipped out his PADD. He was a man of action.

Dear Nyota: he texted, I have noticed that you are unhappy. Would you like to go to my house and Talk About It (whatever It is)? I can be cogently adviceful (though not grammatically accurate), and possibly even nice. All fun aside, though, are you okay?

Uhura jumped when her PADD buzzed. She stared at it while Kirk watched her in the rear view mirror. She looked straight at him when she was done reading and nodded tearily.

Winona was taking Bones home first anyway, so it was a simple matter of asking Winona not to drop by Uhura’s. Kirk had never really spent alone time with Uhura before, but they’d talked a little in class and he was definitely interested in her looks (the girl could work it). Still, this was not the time for play-flirting. He escorted her inside, silently, under Winona’s suspicious eye (he texted Bones to explain what was going on so that if Winona went all ageswap Atonement on his ass and misrepresented the situation to his boyfriend at a later date, there would be no tragic consequences), and took her straight to his room.

She collapsed onto his shoulder, sobbing. He was less taken aback than he expected to be. He’d dealt with crying people before (generally overemotional boyfriends—true fact, boys were more crazy than girls in relationships) and had never quite known what to do with them. But with Uhura, physical comforting felt natural. He pulled her to him, just holding her. After a while, he maneuvered them awkwardly to his bed and fetched a Kleenex for her. She blew her nose noisily.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed. Her voice was at his ear, warm and wet. He shoved down his feelings of arousal—Spock’s girlfriend, not cool (it didn’t really occur to him to use Bones as a reason not do anything with her)—and rubbed her back. She shivered a little more and detached herself, falling heavily onto his bed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting beside her carefully. He could feel the give in the springs of his mattress, and the thought warmed him, as it always did, that there was someone else in his bed.

“I d-don’t know,” she muttered, dabbing at her eyes. “Spock was j-just weird, when I was leaving—did you s-see him? He looked s-so angry, and I—“ She hiccupped a little. “God, I’m such an idiot. His mom just died. I c-can’t possibly hold him responsible for any of this. And nothing has happened, I’m j-just crazy, there’s nothing to even hold him responsible for.” For a moment, she looked like the old, kickass Uhura, flaming angry and irritated. But then she dissolved straight back into tears.

[apologies for the gibberish. evidently this cannot be fixed.]

Kirk was starting to get freaked out. God, was she asking relationship advice from him? About Spock? Who he hated?

“Um,” he said. “So, he isn’t generally… weird?”

“Yes, Jim, he’s always weird,” she snapped, but her sarcasm had no real heat behind it. She sighed. “He’s really very sweet. And damn good in bed, despite being very much a virgin.”

Wow, thought Kirk. I am officially in over my head. “That’s… interesting?”

“He’s half Vulcan. It makes sense. They are so focused on learning. You know, I don’t think he loves me.”

What? Really? “Why do you say that?” Kirk was oddly curious.

“Well, he hasn’t said he loves me. And I’ve said I loved him.”

Kirk saw a pretty obvious flaw, here. “Haven’t you two only been dating for two months?” he said hesitantly.

She looked like she wanted to glare at him but couldn’t quite manage. “Yeah,” she said. “I know, I’m so dumb, but—I do love him. I mean, look at him. I don’t see how you can not love him. He knows everything, but not anything useful—anything really useful, to social relationships, I mean. He’s so adorably ignorant about that stuff. And he’s just so competent with everything else, like his equations could sweep you off your feet, and his essays could carry you away. Have you read his writing? It seems dry, at first, and then you get into the rhythm of it, and you see what he’s doing, and he just wraps you around his pinky and calmly gets you to agree with every single point he makes. Strunk and White would faint with joy, reading him.” She paused. “Jim?”

Kirk realized that he had been staring off into space, imaging Spock writing equations in the sky. He blinked at her. “Sorry. I haven’t read his writing.” He smiled. “But I know what you mean about the rest of it.” Wow, did he. How had he never noticed those things about Spock before? Uhura was completely right. It was incredible, really, how Spock always seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and manage to look so—how did Uhura describe it?—competent. He would go so far as to call it sexy, actually. That was a strange thought: Spock, sexy? Okay, the man was attractive as all get out, sure, but he wasn’t exactly Kirk’s type, and oh, right, Uhura was here, and he should be talking to her.

She was looking at him strangely. “Do you like Spock?” she asked.

Kirk frowned. “No,” he said slowly. “But… maybe?”

She wasn’t angry. “He has that affect on you,” she said. “I didn’t see it at all, for ages. Christine was completely in love with him last year, and I was like, ‘Seriously? Spock? Do you know who you’re talking about?’ And then after a while, it hits you—he’s pretty great.”

“I still don’t see why you’ve fallen in love with him, though. So fast—you loved him before you started dating, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. There’s not much I can do to help it—we don’t choose to fall in love. Or, we don’t entirely choose to fall in love. We put ourselves in the situation, sometimes, but our body chemistry has to do some of the work. I don’t really care about why I love him. I just know I love him. And I know that he doesn’t love me back, and I have to do something about that, but I don’t know what.”

Kirk was at a loss for words, so he just scooted closer and plucked another Kleenex out of the box for her. Poor girl, he thought. How much would it suck to be in love with Spock?

x


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two: Where No Man Has Gone Before

Spock was thinking about Amanda.

She used to make him peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, back on Vulcan, and even though he got teased about them, he was fiercely proud of those sandwiches. One day, Stonn stole a whole half of one of those sandwiches and ate it and discovered it was actually very good. None of the other kids had believed Stonn when he said how tasty the sandwich was, even though Vulcans didn’t lie, and Stonn had gotten really angry, but he had never beaten up Spock again, and the bullying slacked off a quite a bit as a consequence.

When he and Sarek got karsh, a mild, flu-like sickness only Vulcans could catch, Amanda propped them on the downstairs couch and brought them bowl upon bowl of plomeek soup. That week of sniffles and fever and nausea was somehow one of the best of Spock’s life. He talked to his father more than he usually did, and Amanda was sweetly determined to take care of her family with large quantities of comfort food, movies, and board games. They stayed up late together, watching old Pixar films and eating ice cream.

When I-Chaya, right after they moved to Earth, was hit by a car, Amanda went into lieutenant commander mode. Spock had frozen in absolute shock when he saw I-Chaya crumpled on the street, bleeding copiously. Amanda had not hesitated. She’d gathered the mangled sehlat in her arms, placed him gently in their car, and drove like a madwoman to the nearest vet’s office, where she had breathed threateningly down everybody’s neck until they got an exobiology specialist over from the San Francisco Zoo to help with surgery. I-Chaya was fine after two weeks of recovery, nine boxes of dog bones, and Amanda wouldn’t say how much money—not that it mattered.

Spock should have been making conversation with Lady T’Pau instead of thinking about his mother, but he simply couldn’t. Instead, Sarek was doing most of the talking. As such, he shot Spock lots of subtly unhappy glances for not participating in the discussion. Spock was not being rude—he was responding to all of T’Pau’s queries and keeping to the topics, as was expected of Vulcan children in conversation with their elders, but he was clearly distracted.

Finally, T’Pau let Spock excuse himself. Spock fled upstairs. T’Pau had always sort of reminded him of a character out of a very old human novel, a Lady Catherine de Bourgh, except that T’Pau wasn’t nearly as evil, but she did have the same haughtily intimidating manner and preposterously opulent lodgings. Spock remembered telling his mother about this thought, just a few days ago, and remembered how much she’d laughed.

Spock pinched his ears and decided to meditate. He unrolled a sh’horun carpet propped against the wall, lit a jasmine candle and placed it carefully in front of the carpet, and settled, cross-legged, onto the floor. He stared at the candle, counting his breathing and focusing on the give and take of his lungs (like he had back at the house), and imagined that he was giving up pieces of his conscious mind to the flame. After a time, he had stripped all fragments of himself away and was nothing but a kernel of steady, luminous thought, resting in the ether, breathing in and breathing out and nothing more.

After an hour or so, there was a knock at his door. Spock had closed his inner eyelids; now he opened them and lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. “Enter,” he said.

Sarek came in. Spock looked up at him. 

There was little preamble. “Emotions run deep within our species,” Sarek said quietly. He sat down on Spock’s bed. Spock rose to move beside him, watching and listening to his father intently. “Your behavior with T’Pau today was excusable, but it should not continue. Such emotions as you would like to express nearly destroyed our race, thousands of years ago, before we embraced the teachings of Surak. Our ethic of logic offers a serenity humans seldom experience.”

“Do you feel that serenity, father?” Spock said.

“Yes,” said Sarek. Spock was struck by his assurance and steadiness. “I feel that serenity. I feel the loss, but in so doing, I respect her memory by handling it with the utmost consideration and logic.”

Spock had presented this question before, when he was younger, and he was sure he would receive the same answer, but he knew the answer would seem different, now. “Why did you marry her?” Spock asked.

“As the Vulcan ambassador to Earth, it was part of my duty to study and adapt to human customs. It was only logical that I make a human my partner in marriage.”

“Only logical,” Spock repeated. He thought about Uhura, and all of the things that had initially attracted him to her. She was a logical companion for him. But she was only logical, and nothing more; no matter how much he enjoyed her company, he never felt more than a calm sense of contentment around her. Had his parents been the same way, quietly comfortable, willing to ignore the pulsing beat of passion within them?

There was little else to say. Sarek told Spock that he, T’Pau, and a number of older Vulcans would be having dinner together at the Vulcan consulate, and that Spock was welcome to come if he wished, but Spock still did not feel like socializing. He declined the offer and, when Sarek left, called Uhura. He was always reassured by her presence, no matter how conflicted he felt over their shared feelings.

x

“Ohmygod, my communicator. It’s Spock. What do I do, what do I do?”

“Answer it! Put him on speakerphone. No! Wait! Don’t forget to be an ice queen! Aloof, cool, disinterested—”

“We’re actually dating, Jim, ice queen’s only when you’re trying to get guys to notice you—”

“Okay, whatever, just, answer it! Try to sound like nothing’s wrong—”

“Nothing is wrong, you idiotic—uh, hello?”

Spock’s voice dribbled out of the communicator. Uhura hastily hit the speakerphone button and his voice rose to fill the room. Uhura and Kirk were huddled on Kirk’s bed, staring intently at the device, totally still, although moments before they had been scrabbling at each other and waving their arms.

“Nyota,” said Spock, his tone utterly and unreadably distant. “How are you?”

“Uh,” said Uhura, trying to ignore Kirk, who was mouthing such useful advice as, Be cool! Don’t sound too eager! But be sympathetic! “I’m fine. What about you?” It was easy to instill her tone with concern.

“I am well enough,” said Spock. “I am at Lady T’Pau’s residence. My father and I will be staying there until our house has been rebuilt. I was wondering if you would like to visit me.”

Do it! flailed Kirk. But be aloof!

“I’d love to,” said Uhura. “I’ll be along in an hour or so; I need to shower.” She hesitated. “I love you. I’ll see you in a little while.”

“I look forward to your visit,” said Spock, and hung up.

“‘I love you?’” cried Kirk. “Are you insane? You’re throwing yourself at him!”

“But I do love him,” said Uhura. “I can’t tell the truth?”

“There is a time for the truth and there is a time for… fudging. Oh, Christ, now you’ve got me all on edge.” Kirk fluttered his hand at his face. “Go ahead and get ready. I think I’ll invite Bones over since mom is gone.” Winona had left an hour ago to start an updated training course at the Academy that met every night for a few weeks.

“Okay,” said Uhura. “I’ll call you afterwards, alright?”

“SLAP. Let’s do this.”

“Did you seriously just say ‘SLAP?’ As in, ‘sounds like a plan’ translated into lame?”

“I’m a sucker for the ‘20s, okay?” Kirk stuck his tongue out at her. “Get out of my house! I have a boyfriend to make love to.”

“Oh, God, I don’t want to know. Bye.”

Kirk laughed as Uhura fled.

x

“Hey,” said Uhura softly. “How are you?” She was standing in his doorway, having been let into the house by one of T’Pau’s servants. Her long hair was down, curling loosely around her shoulders, and her eyes were soft.

Spock gestured for her to sit next to him. She did so, sinking into the soft bed, and he wrapped a hot arm around her, leaning into her. She leaned right back, perfectly comfortable, her worries starting to melt away.

“I am coping well enough,” said Spock. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

“Anytime, Spock,” said Uhura. Hesitantly, she leaned to his face and kissed him, gently and slowly.

He kissed her back, just as hesitantly, shifting against her. After a time, his arms came up to wrap around her as his hesitation disappeared. He pushed her down onto the bed, covering her entirely with his heat, kissing her neck, her collarbone, all of the skin revealed by her low-cut shirt.

She writhed under him, quite unable to control herself (not that she would if she could) as he nuzzled her pulse. He wasn’t going fast enough—she shoved him off of her, grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, then captured one of his hands and brought it to her mouth. He watched, wide-eyed and nostrils flared, as she licked each of his fingers, and then, quite obscenely, the webbing between his second and third finger. He made a strangled noise and she released to him to remove his shirt, and then her own. She bore him back down, mirroring his earlier actions, but with more intensity, grasping at the opening of his slacks as she did so, biting at his ears and neck.

He stiffened when she touched him, when she had gotten his slacks and underwear off, when she herself was naked above him. She felt a foreign tension in his abdomen and thighs. It was different and unusual, and quite unwelcome.

“Calm,” she said soothingly to him in Vulcan.

He closed his eyes tightly in response.

She had never seen this reaction before. Generally he kept his eyes open—in fact, during their intercourse, he rarely blinked. They’d had sex, what, six times, now? She momentarily hated herself for forgetting the number.

“What is wrong, Spock?” she asked, again in Vulcan.

“Please do not speak in that language,” Spock whispered in English.

Uhura had fucked the language into his ears, before. She’d discovered that Vulcan massively turned him on when she had moaned his (perfectly pronounced) full name a week ago. She didn’t know why he wanted her talking in English, she didn’t care; she was dripping for him, by now. She ran a flat hand across his chest as she pulled herself against his body, craving him, letting his strange behavior go. But he was no longer moving in response to her ministrations, and his tension remained.

She looked up at his face, rather than at her hand on his chest, and saw that he was watching her.

“Ready?” she whispered, sitting up and moving to straddle him. 

“No,” he said, putting out an arm to stop her. “Wait.”

She thumped back down. What was that tone in his voice? She had never heard it before, and it filled her with apprehension. “What’s wrong?” she asked again, this time in English.

He looked almost confused as he tried to answer. “I—I do not want—” (he was going to say ‘this,’ but something got turned the right way around in his tangled neural pathways and instead, he said,) “—you.”

She jerked back from him, abandoning his intoxicating warmth. The words were forceful as a slap.

“I did not—” he tried to say, but he had meant that final word on some level, and he could not lie. “I am sorry,” he finished almost defensively.

The hurt on her face made his heart break a little. “I know this is hard for you,” she said softly, “but you can’t—” She took a breath. “You can’t say stuff like that, unless you really want to—want to go there.”

“I am sorry,” he said again, showing no real remorse. She was trying her best to be patient, but he did not look as apologetic as she liked.

She decided to ask him the question she had wanted to ask since they had started dating on that luminous night two months ago. “Does it make you uncomfortable that I love you even though you don’t love me?” she said, staring straight into his eyes.

And for a while, he did not answer. He just stared at the ceiling. She felt sick. It was like she was seeing something on the inside of him fighting physically to come out. 

“I suppose,” he said, after a significant pause, “that I was—am interested in you because you are interested in me. I like you. I like dating you. But I, I wanted to be your friend, for a while, and then instead we were going out, and at the time I did not think we were moving too fast, but now I think we are.”

“Moving too—what were we doing today that we haven’t done already?” she demanded.

He said something, quietly. “What?” she said sharply.

“Emotions,” he said again, still quiet. “You are here, in my bed, the day after my mother has died. I cannot share this with you, not yet, and maybe not at all.”

“Maybe not at all?” she repeated faintly, realizing he was talking about a mind meld, which he had never offered to perform with her. “Spock, if you—”

“I would rather not speak on the matter at this time,” he said, a breath of frost appearing in his tone, reminding her irresistibly of earlier in the day, when he spoke so coldly to her. “Would you please leave?”

With that, she felt more naked than she ever had, around him or others. She leaned down and snatched her shirt off of the floor and covered herself ineffectually with it. He just kept staring at her, unashamed by his own graceful nudity. His expression was on the verge of hateful, and it set off something inside of her.

“You cannot play the unwilling accomplice here,” she spat at him, hugging the shirt tight over her body. She was standing, now, stalking around the bed to fetch her other clothing. “You are just as at—at fault. You never said no and I’ll be damned if you didn’t come just as many times as I did.”

Spock blushed slightly; he was still uncomfortable actually discussing sex, which she generally found endearing. 

“I do not deny my complicity,” he said, attempting composure. “But I must ask you to leave. I am not emotionally prepared to have this conversation with you.”

“Will you ever be?” she snapped. There was so much surging around in her—regret, embarrassment, anger, and most of all, that same insistent passion for the boy who was lying on the bed like a goddamn plank. She regretted saying those words as soon as they left her mouth, but she was not about to take them back, not after he had refused to take back the statement that had started all of this.

“Leave,” he said, his hands trembling.

She threw her clothes back on in a whirlwind and slammed the door as she left, too angry even to give him a final truculent glare.

He stared at the door for a long time, then heaved himself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom to throw up.

x

Bones came—and went. Kirk stared out of the window, watching Bones’s fast-retreating back. He shoved down the bile he felt in his throat and flinched when Bones slammed his truck door.

Shit, he thought, shit, I have to calm down—

It was all flickering back. The hands, the hands especially, holding his wrists. He cracked his jaw, panting, trying to distract himself. He rubbed his face. God. It can’t come back. I’ve been doing so well.

“Shit,” he said aloud. His mouth was dry. He found a bottle of water near his bed and drained it. Fuck, Bones, fuck. I really messed up. No, you really messed up. No, shit, it was my fault, it was all my—

He took a long, calming breath. That worked for a few seconds. He snatched a copy of Catch-22 off of his bookshelf and opened it. He had hollowed it out years ago to create a hidden compartment. Every time he used the thing, he said an apology to Joseph Keller, who, really, would probably be fine with his book’s new use.

There were some small tab pills in the book, and he took three of them, letting them dissolve on his tongue, which immediately felt fuzzy and thick. The drug was called birch. It was a less-extreme variation of methamphetamine, which he didn’t normally take, but he’d left the cocaine he’d bought recently at Sulu’s yesterday, afraid that police would be at the scene of the fire and in too much of a hurry to dispose of the stuff properly. He had bought the birch halfway through last summer and had used it just twice. He remembered it being very effective, and he’d never had a flashback quite this strong before (never allowed himself to): he really needed a strong high again.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He needed the distraction, soon. He decided to call Uhura and invite her to Antinomy’s; they had become friends that morning, hadn’t they, while bonding over relationships? And who else could he talk to about the fight? He didn’t know Gaila well enough, even though she probably had what he needed, and there was basically nobody else.

He dialed. She said, “Hello?”

“Nyota. I just had a fight with Bones.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry. This is a bad day for relationships, isn’t it?”

“It really is. How’s Spock?” He rubbed his forehead; something itched deep in his skull. 

“Horrible. He was fine, and then, he said—”

“We should meet somewhere. Talk about it. Let off some steam.”

“I could do that.”

“What about a club? What about Antinomy?”

“Well, alright. Actually, that sounds great. I can go get a seat right now.” Antinomy was a half-lounge, half-club with beautiful architecture and medium-priced drinks. “I take it you have a fake ID?” Uhura was eighteen and didn’t need one; the drinking age had been lowered from twenty-one about a hundred years ago.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Okay. Bye.”

x

Kirk swayed, mouth dry. The drugs weren’t working fast enough. The flashbacks were getting bad.

Bones grabbing his arms. “Dammit, Jim, I’m your boyfriend, not a contortionist. Quit tryin’ to—” Kirk kicking backwards, catching Bones in the stomach. Bones letting go with a surprised “Oof!”

Bones, kissing him gently—Bones’s teeth grinding against his hip—Bones’s light, pale breath on his neck. Kirk, trying to convince himself that this was Bones, not—that it was Bones.

Segements. Pieces of memory, floating, orderless, flicking out of their anchors and driving at him, misinterpreting what had happened, forcing comparisons.

Bones being the heat, the pressure on his back, the sharp pain. Bones being the fist. Bones being the half-face. Bones on the floor. Bones as pieces. Bones as bones…

Bones as the sharp.

Shit, shit, shit. Kirk tried to shove it all away. He took another two pills, swallowing them down with a Smirnoff from the refrigerator, screw what his mom thought. He braced himself against the floor’s cool linoleum. (How he had he ended up down there?) The fight—he could barely remember it clearly, now. It wasn’t Bones’s fault. It was his fault. He hadn’t reacted well to something—what hadn’t he reacted well to? It was important that he remember. He had to tell Uhura. He was meeting her. He was meeting her at Antinomy’s. Wait, those most recent pills he had taken… they were what was clouding his memory. They were bad, and they were making him feel sick—

He staggered to the sink and threw up into it, ejecting most of the last two pills he had taken from his body before they could completely sink into his bloodstream. He realized blearily that he might have just overdosed again. He swayed, hands digging into the counter as he retched. He felt much better. It was all the last two pills—why had he even taken them? (Because the memories are starting to coalesce. Shut up, I know.) 

He checked his reflection in the mirror. He was fine. He was perfect. He was ready to go.

He left for the club.

x

Kirk showed up at Antinomy’s in more solemn clothes than Uhura expected. He wore a brightish green button-down shirt and rather drab gray and green reeds as pants. He’d done his eyes in emerald catchers, though, and festooned his ears with sanik spikes, a new and popular trend from the fashion-plate Ridyah colony on Altair V. But he wore none of the traditional neon colors, thin bracelets, and thick necklaces associated with clubbing. 

Uhura’s own extravagance soothed her. She was wearing her brightest colors: insane yellows and pinks and oranges, mainly, since her skin was dark. She had lined her own eyes in sapphire catchers that sparkled in the flickering lights, and painted yellow lines across her face with Sahora skin paint that glittered and flashed. Kirk had only drawn a couple of Sahora lines on his cheeks, in a restrained green—why was he so interested in matching?—while she had done most of her face, neck, and arms. She didn’t have any sanik spikes, so she had just put about twenty false earrings all over her ears.

She knew something was wrong as soon as Kirk took more than a few steps towards her from the entrance to the club. He had a hard time with the floor, as if he wasn’t sure which way was up, or forwards. His hands and face were twitching and when he sat down at the table she’d gotten a fifteen minutes ago, and she saw that his pupils were completely blown, so much so that he flinched whenever the lights strobed over his face.

“What did you take?” she demanded.

“Birch,” he said, flicking his hand airily, as if it didn’t matter. “Clear shrake.” He was using the drug’s other name.

“I didn’t know you were an addict.”

“I’m not. Just a causal user. Recreational.”

“You seem pretty coherent,” she said warily. He looked strange, sure, and moved even stranger, but his words were not forced or slurred. 

“I can speak fine,” he said, eyes fixed on a point behind her shoulder. “The world shifts a little to the side, and up, but my vocal cords still work.”

“You’re an introspective druggie, then.”

“Quit harshing.” He glanced at her, a speculative look on his open face. “We shouldn’t fuck, should we?”

She sighed. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but you really are one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met. However, that does not mean we should fuck.”

He grinned. “Thanks. I’m with you, though; it’d be a bad idea, under the circumstances.” He paused, shaking his head. “Lights in my ears,” he said by way of explanation. “Listen, what makes you beautiful—it’s all that steel beneath your skin, and the flint in your eyes. You emote your brain as being this, this dangerous, fantastic dragon, and I can hear it roaring every time words come out of your mouth.”

“Poetic,” said Uhura dryly. “You’re weird when you’re high.”

“Thank you. I do have to fuck somebody, though. To get the sharp to go away.” He wrinkled his nose and flicked idly at the edge of the table as if he was trying to get something off of it.

“To what?” said Uhura curiously, but a waiter approached to take their drink orders. “Just a shot of Jack and a Coors Light,” said Uhura to the girl.

“Make that two,” said Kirk.

“What’s this about the… sharp?” Uhura asked when the waiter had sashayed away. Kirk watched her go, rather distracted by the woman’s large, clawed feet.

“Sex,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He shivered unconsciously. “I don’t like it rough. Bones does, he really does. That’s what we fought about. We had penetrative sex for the first time today—well, we tried to; I put up a pretty big fuss instead and it all went to shit. We’re not sexually compatible, as it turns out, and he just can’t understand that there are all of these sharp walls up around me.”

“… Walls?”

“Yeah. Geometric. They have sharp patterns, and if I get too close to them they hurt.” He shook his head again. “See, you can’t repeat the patterns,” he continued. “I don’t date, not really. I don’t repeat patterns or they come find me. Routine would be so nice, but I don’t know what’s behind the sharp walls, and,” he shrugged, “I can’t get by them, anyway.”

Uhura wasn’t sure she understood the metaphor, or even knew if Kirk realized he was using metaphor, considering he was on birch, which was pretty potent shit. 

“So, this sharp thing has to do with Bones liking… rough sex?”

“Yes.”

“Like, how so?”

“He has the typical masculine rape fantasies. He would like to dominate and force me to submit.”

“And?” said Uhura. “Submission can be fun. The next big revolution in our society is legalization of plural marriage and the expansion and acceptance of quote-unquote deviant sexual practices. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to hold somebody down. Or wanting to be held down.” Or ball-gags. She knew it was strange that she was supporting kinks, but this thing with Kirk and Bones didn’t seem like a big deal, not if it was something as common as domination and submission.

“Politics abhor me,” said Kirk. “Ever since I blew up that voting booth, the national sections in the news lean away from me, I swear. That’s not what I’m talking about, though. This—this isn’t about paraphilia.”

“It sounds like it is.”

“It’s about evocation,” he said, as if that explained everything. “About dredging. Finding and repeating.” He shivered, very hard, his whole body vibrating. “There are pros and cons of this,” he whispered, eyes wide and dry, suddenly fearful. “This getting high. The distractions are easier, but the memories are stronger. Shit. I need more color. Dance?”

“Our drinks—”

“I’ll be right back,” he said seriously. “I’ve got to throw the gun away.”

And he disappeared into the crowd. Throw the gun away? Uhura repeated to herself, confused. What on earth does that mean?

The drinks came and went. She rushed down her shot and nursed the beer more slowly, watching the pulsing crowd, feeling the warmth of the alcohol seep into her veins, rushing through the webbing of her body. She felt distant from Spock, who seemed suddenly foreign to her. Uhura liked being part of a crowd, loved the feeling of following a greater will than her own. It was not that she lacked independence, but that she enjoyed being swept into actions lone people could not orchestrate. She waited for Kirk to get back; waited for the moment when she would leap into the people and move with them.

She was not particularly angry with Kirk. There was something clearly wrong with him that she had not known about. He seemed like he needed help, and she was nothing if not compassionate—well, okay, that was a lie, but she was nothing if not knowledgeable, and maybe she could help him. Plus, he was rather interesting in an altered state. But birch, though. That was a pretty hard drug. It wasn’t problematically addictive, but it had some serious side-effects and was definitely illegal.

He came back after a short time, maybe five or ten minutes later, wiggling out of the crowd. He was shining, his paint smeared and his shirt unbuttoned to below his pecs. His hair fell, damp, across his face, having already lost most of its gelled standing power. He fell down into the chair next to her and tossed back his shot. He looked much happier.

“Here’s how it works,” he said conspiratorially to her, more jittery than ever. “The walls are sharp, right? And they’re coming for you—that’s what drugs do, they make everything accelerate—so you have to find the same situation and change it before the walls get to you. You have to recreate it and take control. Not dominate—just shift—with the help of the drug. It forces the walls towards you, yeah, but then it also helps you avoid them. See what I’m saying?”

This sounded like a coping mechanism, of sorts. “What situation are you trying to change?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I’ve forgotten, thanks to the birch. I’ve thrown the gun away.” He pronounced the phrase differently, this time, like he didn’t know what it meant anymore; it had definitely had a distinct meaning the first time he’d said it. “I’ve been doing it all summer, but it keeps coming back, even though… Bones!”

Uhura glanced around quickly, thinking Kirk saw Bones somewhere, but he was nowhere in sight. She looked back at Kirk just as he started talking again—evidently he had simply realized something about his boyfriend.

“Bones isn’t good for me,” Kirk pronounced matter-of-factly. “Ever since the first time he made me flashback. He’s too sharp; he wouldn’t even work with the birch.” Uhura tried to speak, but Kirk cut her off, staring at her. “Is Spock too sharp?” he asked.

Uhura was rather taken aback. “He can be,” she said, still not sure what Kirk meant, exactly, by ‘sharp,’ but thinking she had an idea. “He’s not like us, you know. He’s an alien—an actual alien.” She said the word like it was new, wonder in her voice—she had never realized before that Spock’s differentness could be truly attributed to his species. He seemed just so human, but he wasn’t—a different people with different customs and bodies and expectations had brought him up on a different planet. “It makes sense, now, that he doesn’t understand.”

“Understand what?” asked Kirk curiously.

“Doing the right thing with what you have,” she told him. “That’s what he doesn’t get. It’s not right, to him, that I love him but he doesn’t love me back, even though it’s okay that that’s how it is.” She looked through her lashes at him as she took another drink of her beer. “Does Bones love you?”

“I don’t know,” said Kirk, contemplative. “I think so. He has sharp in him, but I think that helps, actually… which is strange. They don’t fit, in my mind.” Kirk finished off his beer. “Spock should love you,” he said frankly to Uhura. “You’re a lion. A tall tree. A thing of wonder.” He stood and held out his hand to her. “Let’s dance.”

She let him pull her onto the floor, into the people, into the crying mass.

x

Chekov was having an awesome night.

Gaila had called him at around ten and asked if he wanted to go clubbing. He’d been clubbing a few times, back in Russia, with older friends, and had really enjoyed it. He was deeply honored that Gaila had asked him to come with. The others she invited were seniors, boys and girls with long, shining hair and 5.9 GPAs and designer clothes. She said she had taken a liking to him, winking over the vidscreen and referencing their night together at the beginning of the year. He considered fainting. They went out for nourishment, first, having appetizers at an upscale restaurant. He ate some incredible blush calamari and downed a glass of claret from a crystal carafe. Gaila was incredibly nice, and so were the glamorous boys and girls. He was a bit suspicious of them, since he felt so out of place, but Gaila was just quirky, it seemed, and simply wanted to bring him along, with no catches or requirements.

Then, they went to Antinomy’s, Gaila gaining entrance with her pheromones and personality alone. The bouncer didn’t even ask for IDs.

Chekov was instantly in love. The place was solid color, stripes and dots and swirls covering the walls, floors, and ceiling. There were revolving, flashing lights taped onto every surface, and the dance floor was thick with revelers. There was a quiet bar area that he was quite disinterested in. With Gaila and the others, he pressed onto the dance floor, elated by the noise and hue.

He saw Uhura first and waved franticly at her until she saw him and squeezed through the mass to press up against him. The heat of her body was vaguely uncomfortable since he had no particular romantic interest in her, but she did not seem their closeness, so they danced near to each other, unable to converse because of the volume of the music. 

She melted away, eventually, leaving him with a tiny finger wave and a smile.

And then, a few minutes after the girl he had been trying to grind with left with her stupid boyfriend (who had shown up just after she had started paying attention to him), Chekov saw Kirk.

Actually, Kirk saw him. Kirk was playing the crowd, trying to figure out who he could get to screw him in the back alley, when the birch nudged his mind and, like a fucked-up guardian angel, pointed him towards a skinny, sad-looking Russian kid who was, of course, very familiar.

In Kirk’s mind, the sharp walls retreated a couple of inches as Progress Was Made.

Kirk danced over.

The music felt like a soft, insistent scarf wrapping itself around Kirk’s brain. He stared at Chekov through it. Christ, could the kid look any hotter? The gold shirt he was wearing could barely be counted as such since it was basically netting and he’d painted purple Sahora over what looked suspiciously like his entire body, judging by the swirling lines that, dear God, dipped down his chiseled hipbones and pranced through his curly goody trail. Kirk gulped heavily and dragged his eyes upwards, pushing away the clouds that had formed next to his ears. Chekov was beaming up at him through his ridiculously long lashes. Nothing this sexy could possibly be legal. The scarf of music fluttered around, getting thicker. Kirk could barely see through it. He batted absently at it, trying to get a better look at Chekov.

Chekov, who wasn’t high on birch and who saw no scarves anywhere, pressed himself unashamedly against Kirk, whose shirt was completely unbuttoned now, displaying a thick chest dripping with sweat. Kirk felt halogen flash through his veins. He wrapped himself around Chekov and kissed the boy deeply, tasting cool mercury in his young mouth. Chekov made a surprised noise, thinking for a second about Bones and infidelity and trust and stress and mistakes and, for some reason, Sulu, but after a while he melted into Kirk’s mouth, so that Kirk, almost obscenely, felt Chekov slide into him as he sucked the silver out of Chekov’s lungs. The sharp paled, pulling back even further, so far removed from him Kirk that forgot the sharp was there.

Kirk’s whole body was shivering from the birch and the electricity of Chekov’s skin. Mercury filled him, weighing him down; if he thought about it (which he didn’t), he would realize that the mercury was guilt, poisonous consequences; the obvious taste of medicine and the slantwise glare of disapproval and the ominous psh noise of hyposprays being cocked. The mercury was Bones.

They moved around each other, Kirk emulating the scarf of music twirling about his head, leading Chekov by the boy’s flat hips. A sort of warm veil was rising to cover both of them, obscuring them (it seemed to Kirk) from the rest of the crowd.

Neither of them were sure how they got outside and bribed a bouncer and found a not extremely dirty corner. Gold, Kirk thought. Gold mesh, and a chest, lips burning up my neck, the scarf fluttering away. The beat of the music was faint, pulsing at Kirk’s back; Chekov had shoved him against the wall of the club and was trying to abolish their zippers. Kirk leaned back, so hot he shivered. Chekov was a brown-eyed crusade of sex, a thousand naked armies marching heavy-heeled over Kirk’s goosebump-ridden flesh. Every panted word that came out of Chekov’s mouth destroyed Kirk with its urgency. 

They didn’t know how long it took; didn’t care. The sharp walls were utterly gone when Chekov finally came, choking his orgasm against Kirk’s neck, his lips little brands of fire. They raised their arms as one and wrapped themselves once more around each other, trying to regain control over their lungs.

Neither of them had spoken the entire time.

x

Uhura boggled.

“Oh God,” she said. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh Christ.”

“You are repetitive,” accused Kirk, aiming a finger at her. They were back at their table, Kirk having returned for another beer to find Uhura nursing a Cardassian sunrise and evidently able to smell the sex on him (or at least accurately identify the fleck of honest-to-God semen on his cheek).

“You. Had sex. With Pavel. That’s not good. That’s bad. That’s very bad.”

“You are so wrong. It was damn good. It was like being attacked by chocolate phoenixes.”

“That—that doesn’t even make sense.”

“Think about it for a while.”

“You know, I don’t think I will. Jim, what about Leo?”

Kirk flinched. “Yeah. I know. I’m going to tell him tomorrow.”

“Oh God. Jim, he is really not going to be happy.”

“There was nothing else I could do,” Kirk said. “You have no idea what the sharp is like.” He scrubbed his face in his hands. “I have to go home.”

“Oh my God, what is wrong with you?” Uhura cried. “You seem so fine most of the time, and then you go and get high and cheat on your boyfriend out of nowhere!”

Kirk stared at her.

“The birch is wearing off,” he said absently. “I can feel it. I’m going. Good luck with Spock.”

“Jim, I—”

“Save it. I have to go home.”

“Why?”

“I just do. It’s what I do afterwards. I go home and I go to sleep.”

“Jim, you don’t—”

“Thanks for coming with me. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“Jim—”

“Nyota.” He staggered to his feet and loomed over her, putting his arms firmly on her shoulders. “If you really love Spock, then you’ll know that his needs outweigh your needs. Think about that.”

He patted her on the cheek and swept out, only clinging to the wall half of the time for balance.

x


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three: The Trouble with Tribbles

Sulu was… fine.

It sort of made sense that Kirk had had sex with Chekov. Behind a club, no less. While Kirk was high. On, not even pot, which was legit, but fucking birch, which was some truly intense shit.

Because, really, Kirk would do something like that—Sulu was sure there was something wrong with Kirk; he had been much too unafraid of running into a burning house. And Chekov, well, he was sixteen. And honestly, that was sort of what Sulu liked about him in the first place: Chekov didn’t understand people, so he just followed them along, but most importantly, he really seemed to enjoy whatever it was they got him into. There was a very messed-up, contradictory innocence in Chekov that Sulu couldn’t help but admire.

He remembered seeing Chekov for the first time, riding that bike; well, actually, lying against the tree, looking hazy after running into it. He’d fallen in love with the boy’s looks, then, and later with his personality; the way Chekov talked to himself while he worked math problems and could go from being extremely shy to incredibly outgoing at the turn of a hat. Chekov was evidently an extroverted introvert, or something; Sulu, who was steady and consistent (most of the time; though not as much, recently—which was all Pavel’s fault, actually), couldn’t really understand Chekov’s slightly bipolar personality. Maybe Chekov was bipolar. He’d have to ask.

“Are you okay?” said Uhura, snapping her fingers in front of him. “Please don’t go into a blood rage. Or, you know, whatever.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Sulu, perking up. He was standing outside of Enterprise High, staring into the parking lot. Uhura had just jogged up to him and spilled about everything that had happened last night. “I was just… processing,” he clarified.

“You’re not gonna go kill him?” Uhura looked worried.

“Who? Oh, Jim?”

“Yeah,” said Uhura, in much the same manner of someone saying, “Um, obviously.”

“Nah. Sounds like he’s got it hard enough as it is.”

Uhura shook her head at him. “You make no sense to me. You freaked when Pavel was hitting on Jim at the beginning of the year. You didn’t even talk to Jim until, like… god, was that yesterday?”

“More like day before yesterday, but yeah.” Sulu shrugged. “I understand Jim a little bit better after the fire. And I haven’t been completely insane about Pavel for a while now.”

“What? Yes you have. Sylvia, remember?” She was talking about the girl who had taken Chekov to homecoming. “You were not fine with that.”

“Okay, you’re right,” said Sulu, trying to be patient and explain what was going through his mind. “Here’s the deal. Sylvia was a legitimate threat. Jim is just—well, you know. He’s into Leo. Or not? Basically, he’s not going to steal Pavel into a relationship. Just fuck him, evidently, and hey, everybody jacks off. I mean, it’s not like they had penetrative sex.”

“Hikaru, frot is a legitimate sexual act—”

“I know! But, there is a difference. And I’m not that fine with it; don’t make me think about them too much or I’ll start to get nauseous.”

Uhura laughed. “I’m glad you’re human. If I were you, I’d be off strangling Jim right about now.”

“He could use some strangling, I agree,” said Sulu, starting towards the school, “but I’m sure Leo will see to that. And okay, I am also pretty disappointed in Pavel for cuckolding Leo.”

“I know, right?” Uhura trailed after him, adjusting her bookbag.

“But possibly, Jim can be very persuasive? That’s the reasoning I’d lean towards. I mean, I could see having sex with Jim.”

Uhura blinked at him. “You’re so calm. When I grow up, I want to be you.”

“It’s easy—just fall stupid in love with somebody.”

“Honey, I am stupid in love with somebody. And I’m pretty sure he’s about to break up with me. Or vice versa. Well, the vice versa is looking more likely.”

Sulu paused, mouth half open to request passage through the school’s back doors. “What? Really? Why?”

“I haven’t told you about the rest of it… well, we had an argument.”

“Oh my God, what about?”

Uhura shrugged. “Differences of opinion. Sort of. Oh, I don’t know, it was everything coming together.” She steeled herself visibly. “I think I’m going to break up with him before he can break up with me.”

Sulu could not believe what he was hearing. Uhura had been completely down the drain for weeks about Spock, and now they were breaking up? What was wrong with the world?

“Wait. What?”

Uhura covered her eyes. “I—okay. I have a hard time explaining this. I already told Christine and she told me I was insane. Which I am. Just—Jim said something, last night, that really made sense. He said that I should be putting Spock before me if I really am in love with him. So, that made me realize that I haven’t been putting Spock before me, and that, therefore, I’m not really in love with him.”

Sulu gaped at her for a while. “What the actual fuck?” he said.

“Okay, let me rephrase this,” said Uhura. “Okay. So. If indeed I do love Spock, which I do, then I am going about it the wrong way and should not be in love with him.”

“There’s… there’s no right way to be in love!”

“There is, and you’re illustrating it. You’re not going off to kill Jim even though he fucked the guy you’re in love with. And I would be, in your place. So, my priorities are off. My love is messed up.”

That sort of made sense, Sulu thought. “But, isn’t it better to be in love with somebody the wrong way than to be not in love with them and also have a fucked up mind? Which you seem to think are your two options.”

“They are my two options, except I’m not falling out of love with Spock, because you can’t choose to fall into and out of love—that just happens. Okay, never mind, it’s too damn early to be philosophical. Basically I’m breaking up with Spock because I’m not treating him right. Got it?”

“Uh. Yes. Please don’t kill me, I was just asking.”

Uhura scowled at him. “Good. I have to go do that, now.”

“What, break up with him? In the morning? What are you going to do for the rest of the day? When you have six out of seven classes together? Also, he may not return your feelings, but you’re definitely the longest relationship he’s had, and he can’t hate you, he’s not going to—”

Sulu realized that Uhura was giving him one of the dirtiest looks he had ever seen and the words piled to a hasty stop in his throat.

“I realize all of this,” she said tightly, “but I’ve got my courage up and like I was saying, I am actually still in love with him, so I’m doing it now before I chicken. Quit trying to talk me out of it.”

“Yes, señora,” said Sulu humbly.

“Good. Now. I’m going.”

“Er, well, good luck?”

“Thanks,” she said sarcastically.

x

Kirk found Bones in the parking lot. Bones took one look at his half pleading, half apologetic facial expression and knew something was up.

“Okay, before I say anything, just remember not to kill me,” said Kirk, holding up his hands in a sort of ‘I am unarmed’ gesture. “We’ve been friends for ages, haven’t we? And okay, so there were some issues yesterday, with the sex, and you possibly perceiving that I was attacking your sexual preferences, which I totally wasn’t, but we always have issues—we always get into fights. We even did that when we were little. But things get better, right?”

Bones just stared at him. Kirk melted slightly under his gaze.

“Er, right. Well. So, I, sort of had sex with Pavel last night.”

And now Bones’s jaw was resting peacefully on his chest. Kirk restrained the urge to close his eyes, curl into a tight ball, and rock back and forth until all of this was over. “Yeah. Um. It was a mistake. Obviously.”

Bones looked like he wanted to speak, but found the task beyond him.

“I was—sort of high. You didn’t know this, but I have this thing were I’m more insane than you thought, and, I took some birch—” Bones’s jaw dropped even further, which Kirk hadn’t thought was possible, but anyway. “—and, there’s thing I’ve been doing to, well, it’s sort of a coping mechanism? I don’t know. But it sort of requires me to have sex with somebody, and Pavel was there, at the club I went to, and. Yeah. I’m… a horrible person.”

Bones mouthed soundlessly.

“I know how you feel, I really do,” said Kirk passionately. “You’re really, really pissed, and you can’t believe how stupid I am, and you might even want to go kill Pavel (which seriously? Is a bad idea, because I sort of coerced him into it with my amazing sexiness), but deep down inside—really deep—uh, okay, really really deep—you love me and want to stay friends with me.”

There was no reply from Bones.

Kirk twiddled his thumbs. “We have class in ten, you know.”

Silence.

“I take it you’re going to be breaking up with me?”

Bones finally managed to say, “You say ‘sort of’ much too often.”

Kirk blinked at him. “Is that it?”

“Of COURSE not!” Bones roared. “You had SEX with PAVEL? At a CLUB? While you were HIGH on BIRCH?”

“It’s really important that you remember the not killing me pact we’ve got going—”

“Not—a jury—in the world,” snarled Bones, aiming a finger at Kirk. “We are definitely breakin’ up. Actually I might never speak to you again.”

“Ooh, see, no, that would be a mistake. I mean, I am insane, I’ll give you that, but I’m also a good friend, and—”

“How can you—? Jim. You—okay. You did so much wrong here that I don’t even know where to start. Let’s… let’s not even discuss Pavel. Although I will be having a talk with him.”

“But, hey, he wasn’t—”

“He won’t get hurt. Much. I promise. Now listen.” Bones paused to give his next statement strength. He stared right at Kirk. “Birch?”

“Yeah, okay. Not my finest hour.”

“By no means. I had no idea, Jim. None. This isn’t somethin’ you—somethin’ you do. You’re the top of the class. You can’t, just—run around doin’ these things. Why?”

Kirk let out a breath, avoiding Bones’s eyes. “That’s a big question,” he said.

“We’ve got time.”

“Well, technically, we don’t, class starts in—”

“I really doubt our GPAs are gonna go down if we miss one class of English.”

“That’s the kind of thinking—”

“Jim.”

“Okay, okay. Um, well, I just—oh, God, I can’t tell you, I really can’t. You have to believe me. I would have told you if I could, it’s just that I—don’t talk about it. Ever. To anyone. Okay, and actually, until yesterday, nobody even knew there was something I didn’t talk about. But, I think—” Kirk stopped. He was going to say, I think I wanted someone to find out, that’s why I brought Uhura with me to the club, but he couldn’t, because then Bones might think that Kirk really wanted to tell him, but Bones wasn’t the one Kirk wanted to tell. Kirk knew none of this made any sense, because he had no idea who it was that he wanted to tell, but, it was his mind, and it was kind of fucked up right now.

“You think what?” Bones pressed.

“I think it’s good that we’re breaking up, actually,” said Kirk, jumping ahead in the conversation a bit. He knew he’d have to say this eventually. “I really and truly do not have anything against your sexual preferences, but I just don’t like them. It’s unrelated to all of this, but—that kink of yours really” (disturbs me scares me horrifies me) “turns me off.”

Bones’s expression went hollow. “I’m a monster to you, that’s what you’re saying?”

Kirk tried to clarify; he thought he’d phrased that right. But Bones was evidently going to take umbrage to Kirk’s reasoning no matter how he worded his objections.

“That was why Jocelyn broke up with me,” snapped Bones. He was flushed, clearly embarrassed, but also angry. “Because she said there was somethin’ wrong with me for wantin’—oh, Christ.” He covered his eyes. “I didn’t share this with you lightly, Jim. And then you went and—made me feel like shit for wantin’ it—”

“No! God, Bones, that’s not it at all. It’s nothing against you. You can handcuff whomever you want to any damn bedpost on this side of the continental divide, but I just don’t go in for that sort of thing. I’m pretty disturbingly vanilla. It’s unexpected, I know, but I like—I like to have sex with people, not ideas.”

Bones, to Kirk’s absolute horror, looked like he was about to cry. Fuck, thought Kirk. Could I have phrased that any worse?

“Don’t be so damn flippant,” said Bones softly, his anger restrained into a tight little package at the back of his throat. “God, Jim. Would you think about other people, for once?” He bit his lip and stared over Kirk’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Kirk whispered.

“You could never be sorry enough,” Bones said to him in a tone of deepest disappointment. For some reason, that hit Kirk harder than all of the previous anger. “Go to class. I’ll be right there.”

Kirk hesitated, but Bones looked at him with actual hate in his eyes. Kirk couldn’t face that, right now. Blindly he turned from his ex-boyfriend and walked up to the school. He kept his mind blank. If he didn’t, he knew he would sit down and sob.

x

Uhura decided that the best course with Spock was logic, and it was. She cornered him outside of Mr. Maru’s classroom and, talking fast, explained exactly why they were not right for each other and that they should stop seeing each other and that she was very sorry about the timing but she felt that at the moment that she should be there for him as a friend, unless of course—but she stopped herself. No, she could not let herself put a loophole in. She had to end this.

Spock was shocked that Uhura was breaking up with him, not that he showed it. He was not unhappy about their parting, but it surprised him—he had gotten the sense that she would stick it out ‘till the end, as it were, not halt in the middle of things. They were, by no means, over as a couple simply because of that one fight. The relationship was quite salvageable. But her tone of voice when she told him that this was it was undeniably firm, and he had no logical objections to the severing of their romantic ties, so the thing was done, and the relationship was formally dissolved.

Which did not mean that he lacked any particular feeling on the situation. In fact, when she went inside the room, leaving him outside, he realized that he was trembling. He was not sick, as he had been yesterday after their fight; he just felt—he didn’t know what it was he was feeling. Hollow, maybe, as if he lacked something he was used to having. 

Bones came striding up the hall like a thundercloud, underclassmen throwing themselves out of his way. Spock watched as Bones prowled into Mr. Maru’s room without a glance at Spock. Moments later, he was hauling Chekov out by his shirtsleeve, Sulu following them both with a dangerous expression on his face.

Spock’s curiosity got the better of him. What was this about? He moved forward to watch as the three arranged themselves into a triangle, Chekov angrily tugging his cuff out of Bones’s fist.

“—not Pavel’s fault,” Sulu was saying sharply to Bones.

“I’m not sayin’ it is completely his fault, but the implication—” Bones tried to say.

“You cannot go to Jim about this?” Chekov said, drawing himself further away from Bones. He looked angrier than Spock had ever seen him, and the expression was ugly on his face. “I will have nothing to with you if you will be this rude to me. I was going to apologize when I saw you next, but if instead you will drag me out of my class simply because your boyfriend cannot keep his hands off of me—”

“Listen,” said Bones firmly. “Don’t try to reason yourself outta this, Pavel. You know you did the wrong thing. You can’t possibly have imagined that no consequences would stem from what happened. You don’t interrupt monogamous relationships. It’s not done, d’you understand? Okay, yes, I’ll be the first to admit that this is mainly Jim’s fault, but—Pavel.” Bones closed the space between them once more and squeezed Chekov’s shoulder. “Think about it?”

Chekov looked at Bones, then at the ground.

“Yes, Leo,” he said quietly. “I am sorry.”

“I know. And I’m sorry I manhandled you. I was just riled up.”

“That’s no excuse,” Sulu started to say hotly, then calmed himself. “Just—don’t do it again. And the same to you,” he added sternly to Chekov, who laughed a little.

Then Bones frowned. “Where’s Jim?”

“What do you mean?” Chekov asked.

“Jim—I sent him up here ahead of me. I just realized he wasn’t in English.”

“I haven’t seen him all morning,” said Sulu with a shrug. “Maybe he decided to skip and avoid you, Leo.”

“Did you break up?” Chekov asked, sounding guilty.

“Absolutely,” said Bones, with another (slightly less intense) glare at Chekov. “He’s not the type to run from things, though… or maybe he is,” Bones added bitterly.

Scotty stuck his head out of the door. “Just thought you should know, class is startin’ in thirty seconds.”

Spock hurried forwards. Sulu, Chekov, and Bones followed at a more leisurely pace.

“Where’s Jim?” Scotty asked, looking concerned.

“We’re not sure,” said Sulu, just as Bones said, “Doesn’t matter.”

Scotty narrowed his eyes at Bones. “You really think ‘tis a good idea t’ let him loose after what happened last night? Nyota told me all about it,” he added pointedly. 

“He is likely to be in the library,” said Spock, without thinking.

Bones blinked at him. They were inside the door by this time, standing in the short hallway near the entrance. Sulu and Chekov had seated themselves and the whole class was watching them. “Why would you say that?”

“Logically, a person such as James would take refuge there,” said Spock, discomfited that he was guessing this, or that he was guessing at all.

“Mr. Maru! Do y’mind if I run down t’ th’ library for just a mo’?” Scotty called across the room.

“What for?” snapped Mr. Maru.

“Er, ah need t’ get a book for me presentation. It won’t take but a second.”

Mr. Maru shrugged. “While you’re there, get the book Mr. Madaki has on hold for me?” He swiped his ID over the scanner on his desk and a pressed a button on the touch-screen, giving Scotty an electronic hall pass. “Come right back.”

“Yes, sir,” said Scotty without an obvious trace of irony. He winked at Spock and Bones and left just as the bell rang.

x

Kirk was resting in the 600 section, next to medical sciences. There was a pharmacology book open in his lap to a page about methamphetamine and its derivates. He looked up as Scotty approached and closed the book guiltily.

“You should come t’ class,” said Scotty softly.

Kirk shook his head. “Bones hates me,” he whispered. “I hate me. And I don’t even want to know what Hikaru is planning to do to me.”

“Hikaru is disturbin’ly alright with what happened,” said Scotty. He settled down on the floor beside Kirk. “’Tis worryin’ me, actually.”

“He is? Oh, that’s good to know.” Kirk looked suspicious. “How’d you know where to find me?”

“Spock thought you’d be here,” said Scotty. “You—”

There was a noise to the side of them. Beyond Scotty, at the end of the row, stood Spock.

“Mr. Maru gave me a pass,” said Spock, holding up his ID almost nervously as Kirk and Scotty stared at him. “You may leave, Montgomery.”

Scotty shrugged and heaved himself to his feet. “Have it your way, Spock,” he said. He clapped Kirk on the shoulder. “Don’t get down, laddie. Men like you always bounce back.”

Spock approached hesitantly. Kirk was watching him, clutching the pharmacology book in his lap with white-knuckled hands.

“I have heard that you and Leonard ended your relationship,” he said. “I come to offer my condolences, or my congratulations, whichever you find to be more acceptable.”

Kirk actually laughed.

“I would also like to tell you that Nyota and I ended our relationship,” Spock continued. “So, I find myself, as it were, in your situation.”

Kirk stopped laughing. Concern flickered over his features. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “What happened?”

“She explained that, since I did not support the continuation of the relationship, it should not progress, even though she continued to… have feelings… for me,” Spock said. “She said that my needs outweighed her own.”

Oh, shit, thought Kirk. He remembered most of last night, and he certainly recalled his parting comment to Uhura. “Um, I might be kind of responsible for this,” Kirk admitted, figuring he’d better tell the truth. “I was with Nyota last night, and I told her that you should be her first priority. I used that phrasing, with the ‘needs,’ exactly.”

Spock tilted his head. “Fascinating,” he said quietly. “If you were indeed the originator of the phrase, could you possibly explain the logic behind it? As far as I am aware, the self is the primary concern of the human. Nyota, however, emphasized that I was her primary concern.”

“Yeah, because she’s in love with you.”

Spock looked confused. “What has love to do with personal priorities?”

“Are you kidding? Come on. If you’re in love with somebody, you would basically do anything for them. You would risk everything for their preservation.”

“That is most illogical.”

Kirk grinned and patted Spock’s cheek. “You’re too cute. It’s completely cliché to say this, but I guess I have to—love is illogical.”

“James, you are speaking gibberish. Nothing is illogical, especially not a sentiment shared by a vast number of people, including Vulcans.”

Kirk threw up his hands. “Fine. Think that way. But consider what Nyota did, and how illogical of an action it was for her.”

Spock did not reply to that. He didn’t know how to. He reached over and plucked the pharmacology book out of Kirk’s hands.

“Why did you take the birch?” he asked.

Kirk shook his head. “People have got to quit asking me that.”

“Why, James? It was—”

“Don’t fucking say it was illogical.”

“It was.”

Kirk got up. “Let’s go to class, okay?”

“James…” Spock sighed. “That is your choice.” Kirk grabbed Spock’s hand to help him up.

“Your skin is so hot,” said Kirk softly when Spock was standing in front of him. He was still holding Spock’s hand.

“Vulcans have a higher body temperature than humans. A full Vulcan would have an internal temperature of forty-four point two degrees Celsius, while my average temperature is exactly three point six degrees cooler than that.” Spock pulled his hand gently out of Kirk’s, trying not to let his mind wander, which was difficult, with Kirk so close to him.

“That’s… very interesting.” Kirk also looked rather distracted. “Um, I gotta drop by the office and get a tardy, okay?”

“You could simply obtain a nurse’s pass,” said Spock, well aware that what he was saying was directly influenced by how Kirk’s hand had felt wrapped around his fingers.

“What? To do that, you have to have been in the nurse’s office before the bell—” Kirk paused. “Wait. You have a library pass?”

“Yes,” said Spock, pleased that Kirk was catching on.

Kirk stared at him. “Are you offering me your pass?”

“I would do no such thing,” said Spock calmly, handing Kirk his ID card. “That would be dishonest.”

Kirk grinned and took it. “You are too cool, you know that?” Kirk put his own ID card next to Spock’s and pulled his PADD out of his pocket. “Check for the librarian, would you?”

“Even though there is no illegal activity currently occurring, I shall do so,” said Spock, peering over the stacks.

“I thought Vulcan’s didn’t lie.”

“We merely rephrase. Your actions are not illegal, simply… against the rules.”

“I get it.” Kirk typed a couple of lines of code into his PADD and watched as a nurse’s pass appeared on his ID card. “Transferred and edited. Shame I forgot to mention that loophole in the firewall to Ms. Valence when I was working on the school security system. Thanks, Spock.”

“For what?” said Spock guilelessly.

“That’s the spirit,” chuckled Kirk. 

They headed back to English.

x

Kirk and Bones sat on opposite of the room from each other, as did Spock and Nyota. The tension was evident throughout class. Mr. Maru, informed of the tragedy that had occurred at Spock’s house but completely unaware of anything else, made a few ungraceful comments, but it was nothing too harmful.

Everybody trooped off to physics in an awkward bunch. Thankfully, Pike had decided to make today’s lesson casual.

“You all did very well on Friday’s test,” said Pike, pacing in front of the classroom. “As usual, the perfect score pencils go to Mr. Kirk and Mr. Spock, with an honorary mention for Ms. Gaila, who did not receive full credit because a single decimal point was out of place. Problem fifteen, if you were wondering, Gaila.” Gaila scowled. “Nice work, class. Now, I’ve made up a rather different lesson for today. I know this is a physics class, but I know you all had a tough weekend, so I’ve decided to do a fun little exobiology lesson.” Pike held up a foot-square wire cage filled with little balls of fur. “How many people here have heard of tribbles?”

Uhura let out something resembling a squeal. Everybody turned to her.

“My dad brought one home for me one time,” she muttered, embarrassed. “They’re… they’re really cute.”

Chekov, who was sitting next to her, looked intrigued. “What are they?” he asked.

“Tribbles, or Polygeminus grex, are small mammalian animals native to planet Iota Geminorum IV. They are notable for being voracious eaters, as well as for their rapid rate of procreation.” Pike paused to undo the latch on the cage. “They are also well known for their… soothing properties.”

Spock raised his eyebrow.

“If you would divide yourselves into pairs, I will hand out the tribbles,” said Pike.

Kirk, who would have generally partnered with Bones, latched onto Spock, who was fine with avoiding Uhura, even though their breakup had been amicable. Bones glared across the room at Kirk and asked Chapel if she would partner with him. Sulu claimed Chekov, and Uhura, who was busy staring at the cage of tribbles, was left without a partner, since there were an odd number of people in the class. Scotty and Gaila invited her to join them.

Each pair got a tribble. Pike kept one for himself. It was a pale yellow color, and larger than the rest.

“This is Spike,” said Pike, holding up the tribble. “My friend Vin Asunder lent him to me for the purposes of this lesson. The rest of the tribbles in this room are Spike’s offspring. Now, can anybody tell me how to tell the difference between male and female tribbles?”

There was a long silence.

Pike smiled. “It has been hypothesized that tribbles reproduce asexually. However, tribble reproduction has never been observed. The scientists that have attempted to study these creatures are generally perplexed by their mating habits…”

Kirk glanced over at Spock, who was holding their tribble. Spock was staring at it and stroking it with great concentration. The tribble was letting out a low humming noise.

“Spock.”

Spock didn’t react. He kept stroking the tribble. There was a faraway look on his face.

“Spock.”

Spock jumped. The tribble nuzzled closer to Spock’s chest, but Spock put it down primly on the table and stared back up at Pike. Kirk tried not to laugh.

The other students were equally entranced by their tribbles. Sulu and Chekov were eye level with their specimen, both of them petting it. Uhura had claimed Scotty and Gaila’s tribble and was utterly silent as it hummed in her arms. Even Bones looked enraptured by his gray one.

Pike trailed off. Kirk, Spock, and Chapel were the only ones who noticed. Everybody else was staring at their tribbles as if they possessed the secret to immortality. Pike grinned at the three of them. Then he cleared his throat loudly. Everybody else in the room leaped collectively a few meters off of their seats.

“I see you have been exposed to their aforementioned soothing properties,” said Pike, amused. Bones was bright red. He shoved his tribble towards Chapel, not meeting anybody’s eye. Again, Kirk tried not to laugh. 

“Tribbles are, as I have said, a mystery to science,” Pike continued. “We know that they are susceptible to certain poisons and the number of offspring they produce is directly related to the amount of food they consume. However, I would like to ask all of you to take a close look at your tribbles. See if you can find eyes, a mouth, an anus, or reproductive features and if you can identify their plane of symmetry.”

The students poked and prodded at their tribbles for a while. Pike petted Spike absently as he strode around the room, snapping various students out of their trances. Kirk and Spock, trying not to touch each other’s hands (Spock for entirely different reasons than Kirk), examined their tribble.

“It’s just… fur,” said Kirk, so close to the thing his nose was nearly touching it. “I can see some skin, but I swear to God, it’s just a… a ball of fluff. That purrs.”

They discussed the biological impossibility that tribbles represented for the rest of class. Uhura and Chekov were the most susceptible to the creatures’ charms: Uhura barely spoke a word throughout the whole period, and Sulu had to constantly elbow Chekov to keep him cognizant.

History passed calmly enough. Kirk and Spock found themselves sitting next to each other again, since Uhura was talking to Chapel, who was shadowing Bones. The only moment of excitement came at the beginning of the class, when Ms. Tyvak announced that they were beginning Russian history and Chekov nearly had a heart attack. 

Lunch was terrible. Uhura was welcomed back to the table with open arms. She tried to bring Kirk with her, but Kirk was still afraid of Bones’s hateful glare, so he muttered something about needing to do homework and fled back to the library, where he found Spock in their old place in the 600s, reading the book on pharmacology.

Spock looked up to see Kirk backing away. “I will not continue to inquire as to your motivations behind your actions, since I am sure your reasoning would escape me,” said Spock irritably. “Have a seat, James. I take it you are avoiding Leonard?”

“Yup. He’s trying to curdle my soul or something. It’s creepy. Also, understandable. How much do you know about what happened?”

“Very little. Only that you had sexual intercourse with Pavel and consumed methylphenylpropanimine before doing so.”

“Methylphenylbutanimine, actually. Birch has three alkanes, not two.”

“The variety of birch that is sold in California tends to have three alkanes, since it is produced in Canada, where the ingredients that make up the substance are slightly different than the ingredients used in the rest of the world.”

“How do you know that?”

Spock held up the book. “You were reading this earlier.”

“Okay. Wow. You have, like, a photographic memory or something, don’t you?” Kirk was quiet for a while. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I plan on consuming nourishment when I return to Lady T’Pau’s residence after school.”

“So, you’re just going to skip lunch? Come on. We could go eat somewhere.”

“James, we are not allowed off of school property during class hours.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s no fun. I’ll just go grab a pass from Pike to work on the Enterprise and we can leave through the garage. Come on, please come with me? I’m really craving a cheeseburger.” Kirk fluttered his eyelashes at Spock, who was stayed strong.

“There are numerous flaws in this plan, namely, the fact that—”

“Spock. Lunch. Priorities. Get up, we’re going to eat.”

Spock rose to his feet, grumbling. “Allowing you to convince me to do unsafe, unlawful, and unwise things will not continue,” he said adamantly.

“That’s my talent, though. Hey, if not even Vulcans can resist my modest charms and handsome good looks, I could take over the galaxy.”

Spock gave him a look that said, “Seriously?”

Kirk gave him a look back that said, “Seriously,” and started humming As Time Goes By.

“This is not the beginning of a beautiful friendship, James,” said Spock crisply.

“Oh my God, you get pop culture references?”

Spock ignored him. “I will have lunch with you as long as the restaurant we go to has an acceptable vegetarian menu,” he said.

Kirk grinned. “I’ll round up the usual suspects.”

Spock’s eyes said, “I might have to kill you.” Kirk simply blew him a kiss.

x


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four: The Cloud Minders

Spock poked at his Caesar salad unenthusiastically.

“When I used the phrase ‘acceptable vegetarian menu’ earlier, were you confused by it?” he said irritably to Kirk. “This romaine resembles iceberg in taste and texture. And appearance. In fact, were I to do genetic testing, I would hypothesize that this lettuce were more closely related to cabbage, as the crisphead lettuces tend to be.”

Seemingly unbothered by his mouthful of cheeseburger, Kirk said, “Fut up an’ eat ur salad.”

“James, the Caesar salad is traditionally constructed with not only romaine lettuce, which I have already determined this is not, but also with Worcestershire sauce, parmesan cheese—not this unaged American product—and egg, among with numerous other lacking ingredients—”

Kirk swallowed his mouthful hastily and said, “Spock. Seriously. This is a burger joint. It’s called the Greasy Keys. Of course you’re not going to get a decent anchovies-and-all Caesar here. I asked if you wanted to go to Sprout’s, but you got all passive-aggressive on me and said you wanted to go wherever I wanted to go, and hell, I wanted to go here, so, just eat it, okay? Or go get a hot dog or something.” Spock’s eyes lit up angrily when Kirk mentioned hot dogs. Kirk continued quickly, “Don’t lecture me about hot dogs, either. They have veggie burgers here, too. Try one of those if the salad is grossing you out that badly.”

Spock scowled at him for a moment (Kirk took an artlessly large bite of burger in the interim) and got up to trade his salad for a veggie burger.

“I never pegged you for a picky eater, you know,” Kirk said when Spock had finally started on his own burger. “Just because you don’t like meat doesn’t mean you have to be insane.”

Spock merely eyed him coolly over his lemonade.

“Hey, how come you’re avoiding Nyota?” Kirk said.

Spock ruminated, taking time to chew and swallow before replying. “While Nyota and I parted on speaking terms, I deemed it prudent to spare her feelings by removing myself from her presence.” Spock paused to take a sip of lemonade. “Also, Nyota is a rather scary woman.”

Kirk nearly choked on his burger.

“She is forceful,” Kirk agreed with a grin once he had recovered. “I’d stay away from her after she broke up with me. She and Bones are cut from the same cloth, and I’m sure avoiding him.”

“You should not,” said Spock. “He is still your friend, as Nyota is mine. I plan on approaching her as usual tomorrow, after giving her time to… recover, I suppose.”

“She might not recover for a while,” said Kirk, “considering why she broke up with you in the first place. I’m sure Bones’ll take quite some time. He wants to rip my balls off, probably.”

“Surely that would be an extreme reaction?” said Spock, alarmed.

“Sarcasm not your strong point?”

“I simply found the concept feasible. Leonard has enough strength and temper to do what you suggest; the human testicles—”

“Oh my god, don’t even go there,” said Kirk, flinching and crossing his legs.

Spock looked rather content at making Kirk react so visibly, and sipped his lemonade airily.

“I hate you,” Kirk let him know.

“I am well aware,” said Spock, almost sweetly. He watched as Kirk stuffed the last remnants of his burger into his mouth and scrubbed at his face with his napkin. He noticed, for some reason, that Kirk had very white teeth. Very sharp white teeth. He tried not to wonder how they would feel on his flesh.

Kirk was still a bit fixated on Bones. He had really liked Bones. He certainly wouldn’t go so far as to say he’d loved him, though. The man was certainly very passionate. Kirk let a bit of a shudder run through him. He would miss that. Maybe he could convince Bones to be a fuck buddy? But he didn’t think their sex life would ever be quite the same, not after Kirk had handled all of that so badly. (Kirk didn’t even think that it had been Bones that had handled all of that so badly.)

“So, I’ve been wondering, how was sex with Nyota?” Kirk asked.

It was Spock’s turn to nearly choke on his burger.

“Excuse me?”

“She seems really spunky, but also terrifying, so I was just wondering what that combination was like.” Kirk paused delicately. “In bed.”

“James, I hardly think this is the place—”

“There is a place?” Kirk was delighted.

Spock had never had anyone to talk to about things like this before. It occurred to him that what he was doing with Kirk was not something he had ever done. He was having a conversation with Kirk, a friendly, teasing one that had (not much) innuendo and wasn’t centered around school. 

“I suppose,” said Spock stiffly.

“I knew I’d get you to open up,” said Kirk. “You done with that? We should get back to school.”

Spock finished off his veggie burger, found a timepiece, and nearly had a heart attack. “James! There are only seven minutes until the bell for fifth period rings!”

“Yeah, we’ve got time. Hey, you don’t want—”

Spock grabbed Kirk’s shirt collar and dragged him out of the diner. Kirk stumbled everywhere, trying to regain his balance. By the time they had reached the street, Kirk had extracted himself and was walking like a normal human being.

“Dude, it’s cool, we’ve got seven minutes, like you said—”

“James, the school is located approximately one half-mile from our present location, and the distance we must travel within the school would return us—”

“It’s fine,” said Kirk soothingly. “I generally make it back in four minutes from here at a stride. It just seems like a half-mile, it’s more like a fourth. Take some time to smell the roses, will you? Or look at the clouds. They’re always soothing and fluffy. Or whatever.”

Spock did not exactly trust Kirk, so he nearly jogged back to the school, but to his surprise they arrived quite on time. Kirk, quite unexpectedly, hugged him before heading off to military history. Spock tottered into his computer class, almost grinning. Kirk liked him! Sure, as a friend, but… He likes me! Then he scowled mentally at himself and composed his emotions. He cracked his fingers and began to type: Perl would help calm him down.

In economics, which everybody had sixth period, Ms. Okogbo was late. Kirk sat down gingerly next to Sulu, who gazed impassively at him.

“Hey,” said Kirk, offering him a smile.

“Hi,” said Sulu. “I’m kind of mad at you.”

“Yeah? Er, sorry. If it makes you feel any better, you could slap me.”

Sulu considered this for a moment, then did so. It was a very hard slap. His palm hurt slightly.

“Mmm,” sighed Sulu. “Theraputic.”

Kirk straightened, wincing. Sulu grinned at him. “Now I’m not mad at you at all. I am concerned, though.”

Kirk covered the red-mark on his cheek with his hand. “Man, fuck you, now I’m mad at you. That hurt.”

“I’m in fencing. Don’t mess with me or I’ll take the point-guard off my épée.”

“I don’t even know what that means and it scares me. Duly noted.”

“So, why are you so dumb?” Sulu asked.

“What, with the thing last night?” Kirk shrugged. “That’s how I am. At times I am simply not the sharpest. Plus, I don’t have to tell you that Pavel is really hot.”

Sulu gave him a look. Kirk flinched.

“I’m not going to hit you again,” Sulu laughed. “I’m weirdly fine with this. Maybe because I have this crazy thing where I’m optimistic and know that one day, Pavel will look back on the sex he’s had and think, ‘You know, Hikaru’s been the best. Not Jim. Jim was pretty crappy.’”

“Hey, okay, I am damn good in bed, I will have you know. Er, I’d tell you to ask Bones, but actually, him I wasn’t great in bed with. You could ask Helen Noel, though. Or Janice Lester, although she also might hate me, though I’m not sure why. Also, Caroline McKenna, Joe Tormolen, Blayce Hawkins, Chiwetel Puri, or Dora Hannity. And, oh, what was his name… Daigh Olsen.”

Sulu stared at him.

“Those are the people you’ve slept with this year? Before Leo?”

“Yeah, before Leo.”

“Wait, okay. I have so many questions. One, Caroline McKenna, um, how are you still alive? Because she scares me. And Chiwetel Puri, I thought he was completely heterosexual.”

“With Caroline, well, I did fear for my life at a few points, definitely. That girl is tougher than a bed of nails. Chiwetel? People can surprise you.”

“Clearly. God, that’s—” Sulu added frantically. “You’ve had sex with ten people this year.”

“Yup.”

“How—why?”

“Why? Why not? You’ve had sex, haven’t you? It’s amazing.” Kirk grinned salaciously. “I am a sexual creature, Hikaru. I cannot be contained.”

“Or contain yourself, it seems.”

Ms. Okogbo chose that moment to come back and proceeded to lecture them to death about elasticity, which Kirk (at least) already understood, so he mainly bothered Spock, who kept hissing at him to be quiet/stop poking him/quit messing with his hair.

Next period, Spock purposefully chose a seat as far from him as possible, so Kirk sat with Uhura, Chekov, Scotty, and Tony Giotto. Chekov was bright red around him and kept shooting him half-lustful, half-nervous looks. They gravitated towards each other in the hallway after class, Sulu watching carefully from his locker as they leaned against the outside wall of the chemistry labs.

“You are not interested in doing this again, are you?” Chekov asked Kirk. “Because, Jim, you are a wery attractive man.”

“I know I am,” sighed Kirk, as if the weight of the world were resting on his broad shoulders. “And Pavel, you are just—absurdly sexy. You have that ‘jailbait’ look going, you know?” Chekov laughed and fluttered his eyelashes. “And you are, wow. The thing you do with your pinky, that, um. Yeah. I enjoyed that.”

“Did you? Good.”

“Uh. Dammit, quit distracting me. What I’m trying to say is, I would feel bad about having more sex with you. For one, I sort of took advantage of you last night.”

Chekov straightened angrily. “My mind was my own, Jim. I wanted you, so I had you.”

Kirk smiled. “Good. I’m glad you feel that way. I have to say, my memories are kind of hazy, so I’m glad there wasn’t any dubcon or anything.”

Chekov looked confused. “Doob-khan? What is this word?”

“Forget it. The other thing I wanted to say was, I would feel bad pursuing a relationship with you because Hikaru has such a big crush on you.”

Chekov went rather still. Frowning, he shifted his weight from the wall and stood up straighter, staring intently at Kirk.

“Hikaru has a crush on me?”

Kirk couldn’t figure out exactly how to express his shock that Chekov was unaware of this. His you-really-couldn’t-see-how-obvious-he-is-being “yeah” had so much emphasis and extended pronunciation of syllables that it stretched all the way back to Riverside, Iowa.

Chekov didn’t believe it. “Truly?”

“Truly! Hikaru Sulu is head over heels in love with you, Pavel. Do they not teach social cues in Russia? Or did your Asperger’s not get cured in the genetic sweep?”

“Nyet, I simply—” Chekov’s face lit up and he gave a happy little squeak. “Jim, this is wonderful! I did not haf any idea that he—he likes me? He likes me! Oh!” He covered his mouth in excitement, his eyes bright.

“Wait, you can’t tell him I said anything,” said Kirk frantically. “I have no idea if he wanted you to know. I mean, he’s been really obvious—at least to those of us that aren’t from the frozen north—but, you know, it’s different if—see, I didn’t know you didn’t know, I just thought you weren’t interested or something—”

“Oh, I will be wery subtle,” said Chekov, beaming like the sun.

“Kind of what I’m afraid of—” Kirk tried to say, but Chekov was off like a rocket, presumably after Sulu.

x

“So,” said Uhura, studying her nails. “Leo is pissed.”

Kirk sighed. He and Uhura were back at his house. It was right after school, only thirty minutes after Kirk had talked to Chekov. He munched a replicated Ruffle.

“Think I should try to talk to him today?” Kirk asked.

Uhura made a have-you-finally-gone-off-the-deep-end face.

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah. Definitely tomorrow. He’ll be less inclined to rip your balls off.”

“Spock was talking about that.”

“What?”

Kirk frowned. “I have no idea. Just, earlier, I mentioned that Bones was pissed enough to do as you have suggested to my manly bits and he started getting scientific about it and it was weird.”

“Oh yeah. You two went to lunch.” Uhura eyed him. “How was that?”

Kirk shrugged. “It was alright. He’s weird.”

“Pot. Kettle.”

“I’m not weird! I’m very normal.”

“You’re very crazy. Do you like him, or something?” Uhura looked a little suspicious.

Kirk laughed. “Are you kidding? Spock? He’s like—no. Not even. I mean, I could see us being friends. Totally different, Nyota. We hung out because we’re both scared of you two.”

“He’s scared of me?” Uhura looked unhappy.

“No, sorry. Bad phrasing. He’s not scared of you. He just thought he’d give you some time. Seems nice of him, to me. While I am scared of Bones, I think he is simply scared of alienating you. He does like you, you know.”

“Oh, I know that,” said Uhura distantly. “I wish—I don’t know what I wish. This got so complicated and strange. I’m not doing any of this right. I love him so much, but I can’t—I can’t be with him, because this can’t be good—what I’m doing—” She stopped herself, visibly. She was trembling.

“Hey,” said Kirk soothingly. “Hey. It’s alright.” He kissed her on the lips, gently, and she kissed him back, drawing strength from his body.

“Thanks,” she sighed, shifting away. She smiled at him. “Maybe we can fuck later. In a week or two, I mean.”

“That would be nice,” he said sincerely. “It’s good to be with somebody without strings.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you? How many people have you slept with this year?”

“I think about twenty. Since the beginning of the year.”

“What? Hikaru said ten.”

“Well, I only mentioned the people he knew. There were quite a few older folks. I take it you two gossiped during seventh. Hey, thank god they got rid of human STDs, huh?”

“Yeah, at least until the next one pops up. Remember what happened with bhazzoids, twenty years back? There are some guys that are still permanently disfigured. Anyway. Twenty people.”

“Mmhm.” Kirk frowned at her. “Maybe we shouldn’t fuck.”

“How come?” Uhura was curious, rather than offended.

“I don’t know,” said Kirk slowly. “I mean, you’re really hot, but you definitely just seem like someone who’s nice to hang with, rather than… anything else. Is it okay that I don’t view you as a sexual object?”

“I am not sure if I should feel insulted or relieved. For one, it’s you, and don’t you view everything as a sexual object? And yet, it’s good that I’m not just lumped with everything else. I guess.”

“Man, I don’t even know,” said Kirk. “You’re just easy to talk to. That’s it.”

Uhura slugged him in the arm. “Exactly. Whatever works.”

x

A week later, Spock ran his left hand over the hull of the Enterprise as Kirk watched him. They had started talking a little more, but not a markedly high amount. They had both gone back to their table the next day, and while Bones was still shunning Kirk, Uhura and Spock were talking again, if rather stiffly.

“James, I have something important to ask of you,” said Spock seriously. Kirk tugged himself out of his reverie and nodded, wondering what this could be about.

“For the past week, I have been considering the situation I find myself in as it pertains to the hovercar competition. Since I believe Nero to be responsible for the death of my mother, even though the police can find no evidence of his complicity other than circumstantial timing and situations, I do not believe that I am fit to race against him. I would attempt, illogically and irrationally, to harm him during the course of the race. Thus, I would like to formally give you the helm of the Enterprise.”

Spock said all of this rationally and coolly. His tone did not change even when he mentioned Amanda’s death. Kirk was still a bit discomfited by how cold Spock could seem, and this actually scared him slightly, especially since Spock was basically admitting that he did not believe he could keep control of himself in a certain situation.

“Are you sure?” said Kirk carefully. “I can’t lie—I would love to be the pilot. But it’s your job, it always has been. She’s your ship.”

“Montgomery was her architect and all of the members of the hovercar club helped to assemble her. She is not my ship. I simply pilot her.”

“No, she’s yours,” Kirk insisted. “You two have been through so much. Spock, you can keep yourself in line. Don’t give this up.”

“I must,” said Spock firmly. “Please do not argue, James. You are an able pilot. I watched you during the practice runs we did on Wednesday and established that you deserve the distinction of vice president. I shall remove myself from the chain of command.”

“Wait, you can’t back out entirely!” cried Kirk, leaning forwards. He was on the other side of the hovercar from Spock, and he pushed himself across the nose of the Enterprise to grab Spock’s hand. “Stay with her, please. Stay with us. God, stay with me, since you still have to train me on all of the controls.”

Spock stared down at Kirk, sprawled as he was across the gurian hull. 

“Why are you so interested in retaining me?” Spock asked.

“You’re useful,” said Kirk. “You’re smart. And you have to be involved in this, because for you—for Amanda—I will take Nero down.”

“Simply defeating him in a competition—”

“I will find a way,” Kirk promised. He slid off the front of the Enterprise and stood in front of Spock. “You don’t mess with people’s families,” Kirk said softly. “People who do make me madder than anything. Family is sacred, and he went much too far.”

Spock simply gave Kirk the Vulcan salute in thanks.

x

When Kirk told Chekov that Sulu had a crush on him, Chekov had thought that the mere knowledge would make everything better. He had run off to find Sulu, but the boy had just left for home. So Chekov waited until the next day to make his move.

Only to find that he was curiously unable to make said move.

Chekov had never been as nervous as he was around Sulu before in his life. Things only got worse as the days wore on: initially, he could continue to pretend that everything was as it always had been. Recently, however, he had taken to interacting with an increasingly distressed Sulu through mere blushes and stammers.

Things came to a head when they had to go to the library together during sixth to get a few stacks of books for Ms. Okogbo. Chekov did his best to talk to Sulu—he really did. But he couldn’t get out more than a few muttered sentences. Finally Sulu cornered him in the physics section and demanded to know what was up.

“I thought we were friends, Pavel,” Sulu said, hurt heavy in his voice. “But for this past week you’ve been like a skittish cat around me. I’m not going to hurt you, you know—for being with Kirk. I told you, you can fuck whoever you want, it’s fine with me.”

“Oh,” said Chekov, letting out a breath of relief and latching onto the misunderstanding. “Good, Hikaru. I am glad that you are not mad at me about Kirk. I thought you would be, and that is why I was trying to awoid you.” The words tumbled quickly out of his mouth, and Sulu looked a bit taken aback, but nevertheless convinced. 

“Well. Good,” said Sulu. He looked into Chekov’s eyes. “I missed you,” he said sincerely. “Pavel, you’re so great to be around. Not to mention, you help quite a lot in physics, and that’s what I’ve wanted to ask you for this past week except you were busy avoiding me—can you tutor me? In physics?”

Chekov was surprised. “Hikaru, you are good at physics. Your equations are orderly and you understand the math.”

“I’m just okay at physics,” said Sulu. “I’m worried about the AP test. It’s supposed to be harder than the class, you know—no matter how carefully Pike prepares us, the test is going to be this scary combination of everything and I feel like I already don’t remember stuff from the beginning of the year.”

“Of course I can help you,” said Chekov soothingly. “Hikaru, you haf a gift for flying, but you are not too good at the memory, are you?”

Sulu sighed. “I can be forgetful, yes.”

“Well,” said Chekov, shoving his courage to the forefront. “I can certainly help you to remember.”

With that, he trailed a hand carelessly over Sulu’s chest, evoking a sharp, hastily muffled gasp, and ducked out of Sulu’s way. They took the books to Ms. Okogbo in a rather astricted silence. 

x

Pike mentioned to Kirk during fourth period the next day that Bones was working on the Enterprise alone down in the shop, and Kirk, impulsively, asked if he could join him.

Pike was a smart man, and he knew people. He knew that Kirk and Bones were not on the best of terms. But he figured that meant that they would be more likely to actually work than something else high schoolers were apt to do. So, Kirk got a hall pass transferred to his ID and walked carefully down to the shop.

He stuck ins head in the door and saw Bones immediately, sprawled underneath the hovercar’s flat cushion. Kirk steeled himself and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Bones called carelessly.

Kirk took a few small steps forwards, restraining the urge to run. “Hey,” he said hesitantly.

Bones threw himself out from under the car. He sat up, glaring at Kirk. His hair was tousled heavily and he was wearing a grease-covered wifebeater and cutoff jean shorts. Kirk felt a familiar tug in his heart. He missed Bones.

“What is it?” Bones snapped.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” said Kirk, trying to sound quiet and reasonable. “I mean, since I’m the pilot, I thought I would come check on how the repairs were going.”

“They’re goin’ well, Captain Kirk,” said Bones harshly. “They’d go better if you’d fuck off.”

“Please be civil,” said Kirk pleadingly.

“You know, I think I’ll be however the hell I wanna be,” growled McCoy. “You were the one who up’n cheated on me.”

“Bones, this isn’t about us. It really is about the Enterprise. Can’t we just talk, like we used to? I miss that.”

“I miss bein’ respected, Jim.” Bones sat back down and pulled himself under the Enterprise. “Go the fuck back to class. I really don’t want anythin’ to do with you ever again.”

Kirk left, his breathing shallow. His eyes looked empty for the rest of the day.

x


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five: Patterns of Force

Bones straightened his tie and checked his breath surreptitiously. It had been nearly two weeks since Kirk and Bones had broken up, but Bones was still thinking of things to say to Kirk. He wanted to email him about where he was, and the way it looked. He glanced warily around him, taking in the swank decorations. Bones stood outside of a Summer-era apartment in Haight-Ashbury, the unofficial residence of Barda and Ezar.

To Bones’s total shock, Barda herself came to the door. She towered over him at nearly six and a half feet, seeming even larger than she was in the news. She was beautiful, with waist-length black hair done into four long braids and rich, dark skin. Her black eyes gleamed at him in welcome under her immaculate, upcurved brows. She did not seem nearly as severe as most Vulcans did, and she did not look a day over thirty.

“Mr. McCoy,” she said, her voice sweet, if cool. “It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Please, come in.”

“Thanks,” said Bones gruffly, shuffling inside. He had dressed as nicely as he could, in a collared shirt, slacks, and the same cobalt jacket he had worn to homecoming. But Barda, who was wearing a simple, post-modern gray silk sheath dress, outclassed him entirely, seemingly without even trying. Bones did not think he had ever seen an adult Vulcan in anything but ceremonial robes, much less an evening gown that was clearly of human design, and it flummoxed him a bit.

“Nice to meet you too,” he managed after a bit, smiling weakly at her. “How is the baby doin’?”

“He is quite well,” said Barda, motioning Bones down a short hallway and into a smallish, empty sitting room. “We have named him Akaar.” She pronounced the name as three syllables, Ak-a-ar. “My husband is with him now and will be downstairs to meet you in a moment.” She graced him with an extremely slight smile. “We are both eager to thank you for your help with the delivery of our child. Dr. Eleen, though she is an experienced surrogate, could not have known of the affects of a Romulan-Vulcan child on her body. Medical science is as yet unsure how to treat such a person, although we hope that they will soon become well-versed in the care of such ulefkan.”

“Excuse me?” said Bones quickly. “Ulefkan?”

“In Vulcan, ulef means ‘half’ and kan means ‘child.’ These are what we call the children of two worlds, be they part human, Romulan, Klingon, or any other species. Our Akaar is truly a rekhukan, a ‘third child,’ since the blood of three species runs in his veins.”

“You’re right about medical science not bein’ sure what to do about kids like Akaar,” said Bones frankly. “I would have loved to have more information when I was tryin’ to deliver him. For one, he was a breech birth, which was hard enough without his genetics comin’ into play.”

“Once more, we thank you for your efforts,” said Barda. She perked her ears. “Ah—here is my husband now.”

The door to the sitting room opened and a man as tall as Barda entered. He had a strikingly harsh face with high cheekbones and a ridged, alien forehead. His hair was longish, brushing his shoulders, and was more markedly wild than Barda’s organzed braids. He too was wearing human clothing—a collared shirt and tie with slacks, all in shades of crimson and gray. Ezar, the Romulan Consul, had a broad smile on his lips.

“Leonard McCoy,” he boomed, striding forwards, “it is nice to meet you.” He shook Bones’s right hand heartily. Bones thought he was disarmingly cheerful for a Romulan. The crook of Ezar’s left arm was occupied by a mailbox-sized bundle wrapped in soft black cloth. Ezar held it out to Bones, who took it carefully, peering between the folds to catch a glimpse of a dimple-cheeked child.

“Hello, Akaar,” Bones whispered. He studied the baby. There were tiny, barely noticeable ridges already forming on Akaar’s forehead. The light dusting of hair that made up his eyebrows turned upwards slightly, and his teeth—Vulcan and Romulan infants were born with a child’s set—were flat.

“He’s beautiful,” he said to Barda and Ezar, who positively beamed at each other, although Barda’s beam was more like a slight widening of the eyes and upturn of the lips. Evidently new parents were the same everywhere.

Bones was there for a congratulatory dinner, which was a mix of human, Vulcan, and Romulan dishes, all of which were delicious. The apartment was aesthetic and tasteful, made over in a distinctly human Beaux-Arts style, with strange little flourishes of the Vulcan Tveshu mode and Romulan paintings and sculptures. It was not their official residence: the Vulcan embassy was a large compound headed by T’Pau’s house, at which Spock currently lived, on Van Ness Avenue, near the Civic Center; and the Romulan embassy was a small building on Market in the same area. 

Bones had never spoken much with Romulans. They generally kept to themselves, and only a few went to Enterprise; most attended Pride, since they lived in the expensive Tenderloin neighborhood, which had undergone an extreme makeover as soon as the Romulans, finding that they liked the feel of the place, had started moving into San Francisco. 

Ezar was like no Romulan Bones had ever met. He was gentle and kind, and he seemed very open to new ideas, even though Romulans were known for being xenophobic, belligerent, and haughtily traditional. Ezar was the son of a powerful Romulan family. His upbringing had been no different from most Romulans, but he had traveled to Earth early in his life and fallen in love with its peoples and cultures. He went to college at the Kismayo University in Somalia, one of the best in the world, and after graduating returned to Romulus to rise quickly through the political system to become the consul. Even though he embraced unpopular ideas and supported joining the Federation, Ezar was well-liked amongst his most of his people. 

Barda and Ezar emphasized that they owed Bones more than they could repay him for helping to save the life of their child. They told him to request any favor and they would give it.

He thanked them for dinner and left, feeling full and important and happy to be alive. He wrote an email to Kirk about his night but did not send it, feeling the sour hatred surge back when he thought about Kirk for too long. Instead he messaged Chapel to ask her if she wanted to play tennis with him tomorrow, and stayed up longer than he thought he would waiting for a reply.

x

Spock was in the backyard of the Vulcan embassy, in the ceremonial garden, reading a book with I-Chaya’s head resting on his lap, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, closing the book as he did so. I-Chaya whined as Spock’s leg disappeared from under his chin.

“Greetings, Spock,” said a soft voice in Vulcan. Spock saw who the speaker was and nearly gasped.

“Greetings,” replied Spock, hardly able to believe his eyes. The boy standing a few meters away from him was like something from ancient history. “What brings you to Earth, Stonn?” Spock inquired of the boy, trying to keep the shock out of his voice.

“My mother and father have been assigned jobs at the embassy here,” Stonn said. He was a little taller than Spock, with big ears and a rather flat face. His visage was unassuming, but he had a thick, muscular body. 

“I see,” said Spock delicately. “As you know, my father is the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. Will your family reside on this planet for long?”

“I do not know,” said Stonn. “We think—”

“Spock!” they both heard Sarek call. “Are you there? There is someone I wanted to—ah.” Sarek rounded a cut-hedge and saw the two of them next to each other. “I see you have already encountered Stonn. Greetings, Stonn,” Sarek added to the boy. “Spock, I wished to make you aware of certain other arrivals.” Spock noted a subtle expression of pleasure flit across Sarek’s face. “Lady T’Pau thought that you would benefit from the renewed attentions of Vulcans your own age. Idris has arrived, bringing his daughter.”

It took most of Spock’s self-restraint not to let his jaw drop. “Idris?” he said politely. “I was unaware that his position at the Vulcan Science Academy allowed him to leave Vulcan for long periods of time.”

“Idris did not wish to leave his daughter. He has gone on sabbatical from the Academy in order to finish his textbook on psionics, and to act once more as my personal assistant.”

“Then Idris and his daughter are here now?” said Spock, trying not to emphasize the ‘now.’

“Yes,” said Sarek, watching Spock closely.

“Fascinating,” said Spock, rather weakly. He turned to Stonn. “You have also arrived recently?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Would you like a tour of the compound?”

“That would be pleasant,” said Stonn.

Spock extended his arm to Stonn, who took it, and hurried Stonn away from Sarek, who looked positively crafty.

Strangely, Spock was not unhappy to see Stonn, even though he had spent a majority of his childhood being bullied by him. Stonn had become much nicer in the year before Spock had moved to Earth and they had actually started being something like friends. 

“Idris has a daughter named T’Pria, does he not?” Stonn asked lightly.

“Yes,” said Spock. He hesitated then said, “Idris has two daughters. The daughter of whom my father and I spoke is named T’Pring.”

“Ah,” said Stonn, glancing at Spock. “I have heard very much about T’Pring, but I have never met her. We just missed each other in school.”

“I have not seen her since I moved to Earth,” said Spock.

“You have not communicated?” Stonn asked curiously. “I spoke with Ridya almost every day, until she died.”

Spock remembered that Ridya was Stonn’s betrothed. “I am sorry for your loss,” said Spock. “I had not heard that Ridya had died. When did this occur?”

“Two years ago,” said Stonn. There was a note of sadness in his voice. “We were very close.”

Spock touched Stonn’s arm in a gesture of sympathy.

They explored the compound, ducking in and out of kitchens, living rooms, hallways, meeting rooms, and dining rooms. Stonn lived with his family near the back of the compound, quite far away from Sarek’s lush apartments at the front. Spock and Stonn were just leaving his and Sarek’s rooms when he heard another voice call his name. He turned towards it, and saw her. 

“Greetings, T’Pring,” he said.

Her look was almost bashful. “Spock,” she said, giving him the formal Vulcan salute.

T’Pring was the same age as Spock. She had large, liquid eyes and shining hair that was piled on the top of her head in braids. She looked younger than he expected her to, as well, as if she really was fresh from his memory, still thirteen, the same as when he last saw her.

“Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched,” he recited formally. She replied in kind. Stonn, Spock noticed, was staring almost rudely at T’Pring. As soon as her attention turned to Stonn, though, he lowered the intensity of his gaze.

“My friend Stonn, son of Storik, son of Soark,” said Spock, introducing them. “My ko-kugalsu, my betrothed, T’Pring, daughter of T’Pral, daughter of T’Prio.”

T’Pring and Stonn saluted, Stonn bashfully. He seemed enamored of T’Pring already. Spock felt his hackles raise a bit, if only in automatic disapproval, not real jealousy. 

Spock escorted them around the compound, telling them about life on Earth and conversing as Vulcan teenagers generally did, which was mainly about politics, science, and philosophy, with a bit of subtle gossip thrown in as a side dish. Spock discovered that Melor, one of his primary tormentors from his years on Vulcan, had developed a bad case of pl’hakar lagashi, a disease that rendered its victim unable to speak coherently, and that T’Pera, another bully, had recently been rejected from the Vulcan Science Academy.

Spock tried to ask about the people he liked and the people he disliked equally, but he wasn’t fooling either T’Pring or Stonn. They told him about all of the bad things that had happened to the people that had bullied him and the good things that had happened to the people that had not. Too soon—because, strange as it was, he was actually having a good time with his peers—it was time for dinner.

Dinner at the Vulcan compound was an important event. T’Pau resided over the large room on a dais with Sarek, Spock, and other high-ranking officials and their children. Idris, T’Pring’s father, a tall, proud man with spiky, gray-streaked hair, sat next to Sarek. Since T’Pau was on Sarek’s other side, Spock settled down next to Idris, with T’Pring beside him. Stonn’s family was relegated to a lower table.

“Greetings, Spock,” said Idris. Spock had always been worried about having him as a father-in-law. He had been Sarek’s personal assistant ever since Spock could remember. He was famous for being tough and determined, even in the harshest of circumstances. Sarek had been an important council member before accepting a position as Ambassador to Earth and Idris had always been at his side, helping to plow through the red tape and political machinations. As a sign of how much Idris meant to their family, Sarek and Amanda had pledged Spock’s hand to T’Pring when the two were seven years old, the traditional age at which Vulcans entered into arranged marriages.

“Greetings, Idris,” Spock said. “I am pleased that you are once more assisting my father.”

They talked about Idris’s administrative duties for the first few courses. Spock was surprised that Idris didn’t intimidate him more. It was beginning to occur to him that either all of the people he had once known had changed, or he had. It both disturbed and pleased him to think that he might have indeed been the one to change.

After dinner, Spock retreated to the garden. He tried to hide himself amongst the blooming carmel hydrangeas, but T’Pring discovered him and pulled him into the r’qhas square near the secondary fountains—pulled him out into the open.

The sun was nearly set and the small fairy-lights dusted about the garden had only just flickered on. T’Pring looked up at Spock nervously, and he saw that she was different than what he remembered. She was fuller, somehow, as if she had grown into herself. The same inner hardness and cutting manner was there, as well a ladylike subtlety and charm.

“I have not spoken to you for years, Spock,” she said. “How is your life on Earth?”

“My life is pleasant,” said Spock, speaking almost too quickly. They sat down on a marble bench framed by an ivied arch and a sundrop bush. “What of yours?”

“Enjoyable, such as it may be,” she replied. She hesitated visibly, then said, “I am aware that it is customary for young Vulcans to be uninhibited by their marriage bond if they do not feel an emotional obligation to it, but I—I cannot help but—” She paused helplessly.

Spock did not know what she was trying to say. “You can tell me,” he said, touching her clothed shoulder lightly. 

“I have been in a number of relationships,” she continued, “and I have consummated a few of them. My question is, have you, as well?”

“Ah,” said Spock, relieved that this was what she was asking. “Yes. I have been in three relationships, one of which I have consummated. You felt guilt over your actions?”

“No,” she said coolly, her manner shifting. “I felt an obligation to you.”

He had forgotten how incredibly logical she was, even more so, at times, than other Vulcans, although the mood came and went.

“Your obligation does not manifest until my first pon farr,” he said. “We both know that this will probably not occur until my thirties, due to my… hybrid genetics.”

“I am aware,” said T’Pring stiffly, drawing herself up. “We have never discussed this, however, and I wished to clarify the point.” She kept her haughty shell, but looked at him with a bit more pity. “The Vulcan males of your age will begin to enter pon farr soon.”

“I am sorry to leave you behind,” he said. “Perhaps, if you wish, our marriage agreement could be renegotiated.”

“That is an unnecessarily complicated step, for now,” she said. “The advantage of becoming your wife is significant.”

“As is the advantage of becoming your husband.”

They watched each other, and for a pure moment, Spock did not trust T’Pring at all. The feeling dissipated quickly, to be replaced the general distant fondness he felt for her. She saluted him and took her leave, abandoning him amongst the night-blooming sundrops.

x

Uhura, Sulu, Scotty, and Chapel were hanging out at Chapel’s house after school.

Chapel stuck her tongue out at her reflection, wrinkling her nose. Then she paused, frowning at the mirror.

“Maybe I should get my tongue pierced,” she said thoughtfully.

“Like Gaila?” said Scotty, perking up immediately from behind his Quantum Mechanical Engineering magazine.

“Or not, if all the reaction I’d get is, ‘Gaila has a tongue piercing too!’”

“Well, she does, ‘tis a bit hard t’ ignore.”

“Ignore? Why would you want to ignore it?” said Uhura. She had her left hand wrapped tightly around Sulu’s wrist. She had a bottle of clear nail polish out and was holding the brush dangerously close to Sulu’s pointer.

“Quit torturing me and just paint them already,” snapped Sulu.

“You should learn to do that yourself,” Chapel commented, grabbing a hair tie from her dresser and starting on braids.

“Or I could just let all of my female friends do it for me. I’ve always been really bad at painting my nails.”

“Me too,” said Scotty sympathetically. “’Tis a male thing, ah think. Give it a couple thousand years t’ work into our genes, ah say.”

A door slammed distantly.

“That’s my mom,” said Chapel. “I’ll be right back, you guys.” She hiked up her skirt and tossed herself down the stairs.

“Hey mom,” said Christine perkily, walking into the kitchen. Heather Chapel glanced over at her daughter. She was putting groceries away into the tall cabinets around the room.

“Christine,” she said lightly. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” said Christine, reaching into the fridge to grab a carrot. She gnawed on it noisily and hopped onto the counter. “How was work?”

“Interesting. I received an email from the school about your recent absence in physics.”

Christine froze mid-chew. “Uh. Really?”

“Yes. Would you care to explain?” Heather fixed Christine with an incredibly intimidating mom-stare.

“Um, Caroline was having some, some, problems?”

“Caroline McKenna?”

“Yeah, so, me and Helen, uh, Noel, you remember her from my birthday party last year? Well. Anyway. We were, counseling her? Cuz she was having, like I said, some problems.”

“Of an entirely non-sexual nature, I’m sure.”

Christine couldn’t help but grin. “No comment.”

“My dear, if you skip class, you must do so for legitimate reasons. An impromptu threesome is not one of them.”

“For the record, it wasn’t impromptu.” Christine paused. “Er, not that it was a threesome.”

Heather sighed. “In any case, I am going to see your physics teacher tomorrow. What is his name again? Dike? Rike?”

“Pike.”

“Yes, Mr. Pike—” Heather paused too, and looked swiftly up at her daughter. “What is his first name, again?”

“Christopher,” said Christine slowly. “Why, mom?”

Heather blinked a few times. “You haven’t mentioned him to me before, have you?”

“No, can’t say I have… Do you know him?”

“It is possible that we served in Starfleet at around the same time,” said Heather. “Well. How fascinating.” She gave Christine a disarmingly brilliant smile. “Who’ve you got in your room?”

“Hikaru, Monty, and Nyota.”

“No foursomes while I’m in the house, okay?”

Christine made a horrible face. “Oh my God, yes, mom. Sorry I ever came down to say ‘hi’ to you.”

Heather pinched her cheek ironically. “You’re such a good daughter.”

“I hate you.”

“Dinner at six thirty, understood?”

“’Kay.”

Christine hopped off the counter and took the stairs two and three at a time.

“I think my mom knows Pike,” she said to the room at large as she swept through the door. “Can anybody pull up their Starfleet stats? Do a side-by-side or something?”

Scotty reached for his PADD. “Ah can access my civilian Starfleet account; they let th’ average citizen hack some of th’ lower security stuff.”

“Would you mind?”

“Not at all, lassie.” Scotty tapped for a bit. “Pike captained a smaller battleship for a while, afore bein’ promoted to chief of security on th’ Kelvin. She was his first officer durin’ that time.”

“For how long?”

“Twenty months.”

Chapel whistled. “Fascinating indeed.”

x

“Oh my God,” said Kirk. “It is hot.” He tore off his jacket and was considering taking his shirt off when he glanced at Winona and saw her glare. 

“Come on,” she said. “It’s barely thirty-five Celsius.”

“It’s more like forty. I’m going to melt.”

“If you don’t quit complaining I’ll call whine-one-one,” she chided, grinning. The whine-one-one thing was a joke she used to tell him in his childhood.

They smiled at each other and were quiet. It was Friday afternoon and they had just gotten off of a San Francisco-to-Austin transport that they had boarded as soon as school was out for the day. They were staying with Sam and Aurelan for the weekend. Aurelan claimed that she was starting to gain weight, but Jim, over the video feed, couldn’t tell a difference.

Sam showed up in a few minutes, hugging each of them tightly. They took a hover-bus back to Sam and Aurelan’s apartment. Jim mostly complained more about the weather and Sam, between Jim’s vocalizations, pointed out landmarks. Jim paused to stare at the capitol building as they turned onto 11th Street from Congress. 

“It’s a sad urban legend that the Texas Capitol is the tallest in the nation,” said Sam. “But it is the biggest.”

“We should go in, some time,” said Jim firmly. “Do you live near here?”

“About five minutes away,” said Sam. “Seems farther as the crow flies. But the Austin transportation system is marvelous.”

Sam and Aurelan lived in Hyde Park, near the university, in a small, two-bedroom duplex. Aurelan greeted them cheerfully, hugging Jim tightly and bustling their bags into the bedroom. Jim would be sleeping on the couch, which he didn’t mind; he hated bunking with his mother.

Taking refuge in the bathroom, Jim fired off an email each to Uhura, Spock, and Sulu, who he had been bonding with during intense Enterprise repair sessions.

He also wrote about five emails to Bones and ended up deleting all of them. 

Sam and Jim made dinner. Really, what happened was that Sam grilled the steak and directed Jim to peel and mash potatoes, warm up Brussels sprouts, and bake garlic bread. Jim did a majority of the legwork, but Sam was ultimately responsible for the taste, which was pretty damn good. They ate quickly, saving most of the talk for dessert.

“I got a job at Gothos,” Jim provided over the dewberry cobbler Aurelan had been kind enough to whip up for them. “Network… legwork, I guess.” He shoveled an ice-cream heavy bite of cobbler into his mouth and chewed enthusiastically.

“Impressive,” said Sam, raising his eyebrows. “How’d you manage it?”

“Shut down a rogue robot on the assembly floor. The upper management was suitably impressed. You think I’m kidding.” Jim shuddered heavily. “The IT guy couldn’t believe we were in high school.”

“You always were good with electronics,” said Sam. “I remember you wiring up the motherboard on dad’s car at the ripe old age of eight.”

“I loved that car,” said Jim distantly.

Winona looked like she wanted to say something along the lines of, “If you loved it so much, why the hell did you drive it off a cliff,” but they had been over that a thousand times before, and it brought back too many painful memories. Instead she scooped some more of Amy’s best vanilla ice cream out of its recycled container and onto her cobbler.

“She was a beauty,” Sam agreed. “Heard you got yourself a motorcycle. Killed any bystanders yet?”

“Working on it, I assure you. Hey, speaking of driving, I got promoted to presidency of my hovercar club. Means I get to be the pilot.”

“You? Drive the hover they’ve been working on for half a year now?” said Sam, highly skeptical. “How the hell did that happen?”

“President stepped down. Slight conflict of interest; our rival’s pilot probably killed his mom.”

Sam’s eyebrows went haywire. Jim explained the situation, tossing in a few bonus stories about how insane Spock was. 

“Spock sounds like a great guy,” said Sam, tossing a knowing glance at Winona, who winked back at him.

“He’s a regular Venus de Milo, stone personality and all,” finished Jim, who hadn’t caught the exchange between his mother and brother.

“Nice boobs, huh?” chuckled Sam.

“Well, maybe not those, but the abs, sure,” laughed Kirk.

They played a few games of Parcheesi and looked through old photo albums for the rest of the night. Aurelan went to bed around midnight and Jim fell asleep on the couch a little after one. He woke up thirty minutes later to find that somebody had tucked a blanket over him and turned off the lights. On the way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he saw that the kitchen light was on. He heard soft voices from inside the room and padded silently towards the door.

“… seems to be doing pretty well,” Winona was saying.

“That’s good.” Sam’s voice. “And he’s dating that Leonard guy? I remember him. He drove me insane, used to make me wash my hands every single time I passed the bathroom. I always wanted Jim to have Gary Mitchell over more often.”

“Well, they broke up, actually. Jim won’t say why.” There was a shifting noise and the slight brush of skin on skin. When Winona next spoke, her voice was muffled; she must have been covering her mouth. “It went like all of his relationships have. Fine for a while, and then, out of nowhere, they’re apart.”

“You talked to him about it?”

“Of course not. I tried, but he—I don’t know.” Winona sounded despairing. Jim pressed himself closer to the wall, his hands beginning to sweat around his toothbrush and soap. “He makes himself all distant about these things, you know?”

“I know,” said Sam.

There was a bit more quiet. Jim considered moving on, but something compelled him to stay.

“How is Frank?” Sam said in a near-whisper. “I hate to ask, but…”

“Christ,” Winona said, just as soft, but with a bite in her tone. “He’s the same. He’s just the same.”

“No change in prognosis?”

“None.”

“They’re not—they’re not planning on charging Jim with—?”

“Of course not,” said Winona sharply, distinctly louder than she had been. “They wouldn’t dare. The DA has said he can put Frank away for umpteen life sentences if he ever recovers.”

“Keep it down. The house has thin walls.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Has he been seeing a psych?”

“Every week, for an hour. And social services drops by once a month to check up on things. I always feel like such scum around them. I know they blame me for it. Hell, I blame me for it. I’m sure he blames me for it, as well.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” said Sam comfortingly. “Jim’s not that kind of guy.”

“He—he blamed you.”

“Of course he did. I abandoned him.”

“So did I. It was worse of me, Sam. I’m his fucking mother. I should have been there.”

“The pay was better off planet, mom, that’s why you left, and you couldn’t know. You just thought we were two little gremlins you happened to love. You couldn’t have known.”

“I could have. I should have. Frank was—Sam, you know what he was doing.”

“I do,” Sam said, like it hurt to admit it. “I was there. He beat me too, you know.”

“Christ,” Winona repeated. “Sam.”

“Mom, it’s okay. Hush. I’m fine.”

“But Jim—”

Sam sighed. “I know.”

They were quiet.

“Do you think he’s okay?” said Winona, and the wavering note in her voice scared Jim.

“I don’t know,” said Sam. The words sounded like they hurt him. “He probably isn’t, mom. Why the hell would he be?”

“He’s so strong. I just think, sometimes, that it washed over him.”

“I don’t think it did. That old saying about rock and water, you know. Everything gets eroded.”

Jim had heard enough. He glided to the bathroom and scrubbed at his teeth and face. He stared into the mirror for a moment after raising his head from the basin. The skin of his face was bright red and his teeth glistened. He felt of his chapped lips with one finger, then looked away, not wanting to meet his own eyes.

There were four emails on his PADD, one from Uhura, one from Sulu, two from Spock, and none from Bones. He read the ones from Spock but did not reply. He stowed his things and went back outside. The light in the kitchen was off.

He fell asleep quickly, and did not dream.

x


End file.
